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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24735457">Thorn in my Pride</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dresupi/pseuds/Dresupi'>Dresupi</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Thorn in My Pride [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Game of Thrones (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bodyguard, Bodyguard Robb Stark, Bodyguard Romance, Breaking and Entering, Crush at First Sight, Cyberstalking, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Explosions, F/M, Flirting, Influencer Margaery Tyrell, Joffrey Baratheon is His Own Warning, Kissing, Lust at First Sight, Margaery has a stalker, Margaery is Thirsty, Minor Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Minor Theon Greyjoy/Sansa Stark, Modern Era, Mutual Attraction, Sharing a Bed, Somewhat of a Fast Burn, Stalking</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 03:16:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>31,664</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24735457</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dresupi/pseuds/Dresupi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Robb's being punished.  That much is certain. Instead of furthering his career like the rest of his co-workers, he's been assigned to Celebrity Detail. To protect a celebrity he's never even heard of. Who in the seven hells is Margaery Tyrell? Why is he acting like a lovesick fool in her presence? He's a professional, for goodness' sake.</p><p>Margaery needs protection from an unknown assailant while she's in the North. She likely needs protection elsewhere, but for now, this will have to do.  So what if the bodyguard she's assigned doesn't know her from the First Men? He's very attractive and she's not above drinking some water if it's put in front of her. In fact, she didn't realize how thirsty she was.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Robb Stark/Margaery Tyrell</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Thorn in My Pride [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1828714</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>85</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Dresupi's Robbaery Fics</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hey, y'all!!!</p><p>So this isn't my usual ship, but it's one of my many faves. And I watched the Bodyguard on Netflix while I was in quarantine.  And I got an idea for this fic. Just in case you've seen it, this won't be anything like the Bodyguard show, other than the lead actor in the latter giving me the idea for the former.</p><p>Also, my thing is not stalkers. I realize that now two out of two of my longer works in this fandom involve stalkers, but I <em>promise</em> I didn't plan it that way. I labored over whether or not I should reveal the stalker's identity in the tags, and decided just to go ahead and do it. I feel if people want to skip this fic due to the stalker's identity, then they should be able to.  (It's Joffrey)</p><p>Another point I wanted to make was that when I conceived of this fic, I gave no thought whatsoever to the nature of Robb's vocation.  But since I've begun writing, I've made it clear.  Robb works in a protection division of for-hire's called 'The Guard'. They exist exclusively to provide protection for anyone who wishes to hire them.  The public protection division is called 'The Watch' (based on the Night's Watch, obviously, but with a more modern feel) The Watch is not the police force. They protect, and I cannot emphasize that fact more. Both of these divisions exist to protect the public. The difference is that the Guard must be hired and paid, while the Watch just does it as a public service.  If that makes sense.  </p><p>Anyway, I hope you enjoy this little fic!  There will be at least four chapters, although I'm unsure if a fifth will be necessary or not.  We'll have to see.</p><p>I want to thank treaddelicately for beta-reading this and allowing me to scream about it in our DMs for a while now.</p><p>Please enjoy this moodboard I made:</p><div class="center">
  <p> </p>
  <p>    <br/></p>
</div>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>ROBB</strong>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>“Everyone was fine,” Robb argued, his back tensing up as he sat in Captain Jorah Mormont’s office. “Everything turned out fine. You can’t predict these things, ser.”</p>
<p>Captain Mormont sighed heavily. “That’s just it. <em>You</em> can’t predict these things. So <em>you</em> shouldn’t go out of your way to put our clients in danger.”</p>
<p>“Out of my way?” Robb repeated in disbelief. “I didn’t go out of my way to do anything! I simply saw what I thought was a threat and reacted accordingly. And if I’m not mistaken, the client was pleased with all of it.”</p>
<p>The ‘client’ had been someone kicked over by the Watch. Someone who needed protection until a trial concluded. Protection from a local drug gang that he was testifying against and the Watch was short-handed. So it came here to the Guard. They didn’t normally take on witness protection for the Watch since they usually kept to politicians and celebrities who wanted to pay for a bit more in the way of protection, but what else were they supposed to do? Let the guy stay alone? Plus, these pro-bono cases were the ones known to make or break a Guard Agent. So Robb was happy to volunteer.</p>
<p>Mormont had sent Robb over to keep the client company. And one of the gang members had shown up on the client’s property. So obviously, Robb had taken care of it. He wasn’t sure what the issue was here.</p>
<p>“The client’s only happy because you made him feel like John McClane. But when <em>I</em> look at this, <em>I</em> see a liability. You should have called the Watch in to handle it. That’s not your job. Your job is to keep the client safe at all times. Full stop, Stark. Full stop.”</p>
<p>“I don’t understand the problem. I <em>did</em> that. The client’s fine. And they got a really cool story about how they got to watch a stand-off. Which is something we <em>are</em> trained to do, if you’ll recall. I know I, for one, learned it in basic.”</p>
<p>“A stand-off that <em>you</em> initiated. You’re only trained to handle stand-offs that the perp initiates. Not start them yourself because you want to feel like a hero.”</p>
<p>“A hero? Hardly. I was just doing my job.”</p>
<p>Mormont gave him a very tired look and as much as Robb wanted to continue on this line of thought, he knew it was better to just drop it for now. If he pushed his captain too far, he could very likely find himself on unpaid leave. Which he didn’t think would happen if he shut up now.</p>
<p>“Okay, maybe I could have handled it differently. Been a little less confrontational,” he acquiesced.</p>
<p>“Wow, do you really think so?” Jorah deadpanned, reaching for and opening his laptop.</p>
<p>“Am I suspended?”</p>
<p>“No. But only because I’m short-staffed with that political convention coming into town this weekend.”</p>
<p>Robb sat a bit straighter in the chair. The convention was news all over Westeros. They were usually held in King’s Landing, but this year, the committee to elect Region Representatives was adamantly insisting on having the convention held in the North. As a result, nearly every politician worth his salt was going to be in Winter Town Convention Hall. It was a hotbed of controversy, threats, and bodies that needed guarding.</p>
<p>In other words, it was the only reason Robb wanted to do this to begin with. To protect someone important.</p>
<p>“Right, the convention. How goes the planning for that?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant.</p>
<p>Jorah didn’t look up from his laptop. “You’re not scheduled for the convention, Stark. Not after this last stunt you’re not.”</p>
<p>Robb slapped both hands down on Jorah’s desk, but the other man didn’t even flinch. “I kept my client <em>safe</em>, Captain. Isn’t that all that’s expected of me?”</p>
<p>“Only after <em>you</em> put them in danger,” Jorah argued. “I’m not scheduling you. And that’s final.”</p>
<p>“But you said I wasn’t suspended,” Robb reminded him.</p>
<p>“I did indeed say that. And you’re not. I’m putting you on celebrity detail.”</p>
<p>Robb’s brow knit and a groan worked its way up his throat, rattling into the room like a ghost with altogether too many chains.</p>
<p>The captain ignored him.</p>
<p>“There aren’t any celebrities in the North,” Robb said.</p>
<p>“She’s from out of town,” Jorah replied.</p>
<p>“Still, can’t you stick one of the rookies on this?”</p>
<p>“No. I need the rookies for door duty at the convention.”</p>
<p>“Gods, <em>I’ll</em> do that. I can do door duty.”</p>
<p>“No. You’ll be guarding a celebrity while she’s here. That’s final, Agent. Now go out to your desk and wait for her assistant to phone you with the details.”</p>
<p>“Why isn’t she phoning me?”</p>
<p>“The assistant will explain that. Now off you go. And chin up, Robb. You’ll have an easy-breezy weekend of being well paid while the rest of us schmucks go above and beyond to keep all these political pricks safe and in one piece. It’s a celebrity case, so you’ll get overtime pay plus a stipend.”</p>
<p>There would have been a time where he’d have given his left leg for a shot at celebrity detail. The pay was much better than a politician and you got to go places that were technically more fun. Like movie premiers or fancy restaurants or something. But right now, Robb knew that anyone who was getting a promotion would be at that convention. And he’d stay at Agent level for only the gods knew how long.</p>
<p>Robb practically slumped out of the chair, taking his sweet time getting out to his desk and plopped in an equally depressing way behind his own desk. He propped his head on his hand and watched the desk phone while it just sat there. Doing nothing.</p>
<p>“Oy, how’d it go? They gonna erect a statue of you, mate?” Theon was seated at the desk directly behind Robb’s.</p>
<p>“Something like that…” he replied.</p>
<p>“I’d be surprised if they didn’t,” his friend said, sounding every bit as if he meant it and Robb couldn’t help but smile at Theon’s words. He was so sure Robb could do no wrong. Perhaps that was a failing on one or both their parts. With that, Robb straightened and swiveled in his chair.</p>
<p>“You get your next assignment?” he asked, nodding to a file that was open on Theon’s desk.</p>
<p>“Yeah, I get to lead a motorcade in from the airport to a local hotel,” Theon replied, jutting his head in Jon’s direction to include him as well. “Snow too. You coming?”</p>
<p>“Nah, not this time. Mormont has a special assignment for me.”</p>
<p>“Knew it!” Theon grinned. “Knew it. Who is it? Stannis Baratheon?”</p>
<p>“I highly doubt Stannis Baratheon is using our agency for his preemptive defense,” Jon said leaning on Robb’s desk as he spoke. “And not to speak poorly of Robb or anything he’s implying, but judging by Mormont’s face when he left the office, he wasn’t being commended for his service.”</p>
<p>Robb sighed.</p>
<p>“Well, am I wrong?” Jon asked.</p>
<p>“No, you’re bloody not,” he groused, spinning away from the both of them. “He’s got me on celebrity detail.”</p>
<p>“On <em>what</em>?” Theon asked, rolling his chair closer.</p>
<p>“Celebrity detail,” Robb repeated slowly.</p>
<p>Theon sucked his teeth. “Ouch. Mate, I’m sorry. That’s gotta hurt.”</p>
<p>Jon took a sip from his soda and shook his head. “Even though you did break some of the rules, I can’t honestly say the punishment fits the crime. I thought celebrity detail was for the rookies.”</p>
<p>“It is,” Robb mumbled. “The captain was really sore about what I did with that witness protection job.”</p>
<p>“But everyone was fine,” Theon argued.</p>
<p>“Yeah, but <em>he</em> initiated a conflict,” Jon replied.</p>
<p>“Whose side are you on, Snow?” Theon asked.</p>
<p>“Robb’s. But he did put himself and the client in unnecessary danger. That’s not why we’re here. If you want to be a hero, join the Watch.”</p>
<p>Robb snorted. “Fat chance of that. Mum’d have kittens.”</p>
<p>“Okay, so you have to follow the rules here, then,” Jon replied.</p>
<p>“You were a stick in the mud when we were kids, and you’re a stick in the mud now,” Robb groaned.</p>
<p>“Rather a stick in the mud than dead,” Jon replied under his breath.</p>
<p>“Alright enough. Snow. Go ask Mormont when we’re getting the call. I need to go pick up Sansa after we finish up,” Theon said, pushing with one foot so he rolled back to his desk. He grabbed a rubber band from the surface and started stretching it on his fingers.</p>
<p>“He already said the call would be coming in around four. And it’s around four,” Jon said.</p>
<p>“What are you picking up Sansa for?” Robb asked. “She need a ride somewhere?”</p>
<p>“Nah, she just said that your Mum and Dad have company over and she doesn’t want to be anywhere near ‘him’.”</p>
<p>Robb wrinkled his nose. “What company are they having?”</p>
<p>“I dunno, that’s just what she said. It’s someone she doesn’t like. And it’s a ‘him’, so that’s alright by me. Maybe I can convince her to stay this time,” Theon grinned.</p>
<p>“Sans likes very few people,” Robb replied, deftly ignoring his friend’s bait.</p>
<p>“She likes <em>me</em>,” Theon said proudly, folding his hands behind his head and crossing his feet at the ankles. A lot of effort only to look more of a smug prick than he already did.</p>
<p>“Aye, she does. That’s why she has no energy to like anyone else,” Robb quipped and dodged as Theon shot the rubber band in his direction. “You know who it is, Jon?”</p>
<p>Jon snorted. “Unless Ned was the one to convey the information, then no.”</p>
<p>“Oh Dad has no idea,” Robb sniffed. “I’ll call later and find out who it is.”</p>
<p>“Why do you care? You’re not at home anymore,” Theon pointed out.</p>
<p>“I dunno,” Robb shrugged. “Not a lot going on, maybe I’ll head home for dinner and people-watch the train wreck.”</p>
<p>“You need a good lay is what you need,” Theon stated bluntly.</p>
<p>Luckily for Robb, at that moment, he was saved by his desk phone ringing. He was in no way fit to listen to his best friend, a ladies’ man turned lady’s man who was in a monogamous, serious relationship tell him how much he needed a roll.</p>
<p>Honestly, any universe where Theon Greyjoy settled down before him had to be the darkest timeline, right?</p>
<p>Robb turned around to answer the call, speaking into the receiver with as much boredom as he could muster. Well, bored, but mannerly. He was the most polite bored man in existence.</p>
<p>“Hullo?”</p>
<p>“Yes is this Robb Stark?” a woman asked.</p>
<p>“Aye, it’s me. Who is speaking?” he asked into the receiver, leaning back in the chair.</p>
<p>“Merry Crane, Mr. Stark. I was told to contact you on behalf of Margaery Tyrell?”</p>
<p>He had to refrain from asking ‘<em>who?’</em> because he honestly had no idea who this Tyrell woman was. His mother had perhaps mentioned the last name at some point, so it was possible she was just old money. But he knew for certain she wasn’t an A-list celebrity. Not even B-list.</p>
<p>Not that he’d expected her to be. But he’d expected to at least tangentially know her name. But he honestly had no clue.</p>
<p>“Of course. I’ve been expecting your call.”</p>
<p>Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his smartphone and opened up the Raven app to do a quick search on Ms. Tyrell.</p>
<p>He had to type in her entire name to get an autofill to pop up. Of course, he soon realized it was because he’d misspelled her first name. Which was no matter. It wasn’t as if she’d see him write it or anything.</p>
<p>Margaery Tyrell was apparently a lifestyle blogger. From Highgarden of all places. One of those online celebrities, she had a Youtube channel. She was what the young folks called ‘Instagram famous’. She had her name on a line of bud vases or something. She’d published a book about gardening. Which wasn’t any surprise, given that she was from Highgarden. Their enforcement squad was called <em>‘Gardeners</em>’ for fuck’s sake.</p>
<p>Every Region got to name their own enforcers. The North had the Watch. Dorne had Vipers. King’s Landing had the Royalguard, and Highgarden had fucking Gardeners.</p>
<p>The fuck.</p>
<p>“Sorry I didn’t quite catch that last bit,” Merry Crane said slowly.</p>
<p><em>Shit</em>, he’d said that aloud.</p>
<p>“I apologise, there are other agents in the room here… they’re a bit overzealous…” he said, laughing slightly.</p>
<p>“No problem. Nothing I’ve not heard before,” Merry replied. “But Marg would like to meet you at ‘Home Brue’ in Winter Town? I know that’s not customary, but she’d really like no one to know she’s hired a bodyguard, so if she could meet you on neutral ground, that’d be better for her.”</p>
<p>“Whatever she wants. It’s her coin,” Robb replied. “When should I meet her?”</p>
<p>“She’s already headed over there. So as soon as you are able,” Merry replied.</p>
<p>“That’s fine, I can head out now,” he said. “Who should I look for?”</p>
<p>“Her face is all over the internet, ser,” Ms. Crane said primly. “A photograph would do more than my words, I’m sure.”</p>
<p>“I’m sure it would,” he echoed, feeling a fake smile tug at his lips even though this thoroughly annoying woman wasn’t even in front of him. “I’ll do that. Tell Ms. Tyrell to expect a man in a… white oxford and black slacks.” He was almost embarrassed he didn’t have anything more memorable to wear, but that was the nature of the job.</p>
<p>“What colour’s your hair?” she asked.</p>
<p>“Brown.”</p>
<p>“Yeesh, not making my job any easier, are you?”</p>
<p>“My hair’s brown,” he replied. “Do with that what you will. Can I ask the nature of the protection Ms. Tyrell needs?”</p>
<p>“She’ll explain when you meet her, ser. Just know that her publishing company has already paid upfront so there’s no need to worry about that.”</p>
<p>He knew a kind ‘shut up and hang up, idiot’ when he heard one. “Right, I should let you go, then, yeah? It’ll take me about twenty minutes to get there at this time of day.”</p>
<p>“I’ll be sure to let her know. Have a wonderful day, Mr. Stark.”</p>
<p>There was a click and the line went dead.</p>
<p>He sighed heavily and went to reach for his impact baton and pepper spray, clipping both into his belt, he pulled his jacket on and buttoned it. If Ms. Tyrell wouldn’t tell him the nature of protection she needed before he left, he wouldn’t bother checking his gun out of the locker. That was fair, right?</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <strong>MARGAERY</strong>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>Margaery reached down to press her hand against her left knee to stop it from shaking, but it only made it worse.</p>
<p>Instead, she tried concentrating on the latte art on top of her coffee. Cream in the shape of a leaf. It was ordinary but beautiful at the same time. She wondered how often she’d taken plain leaf latte art for granted.</p>
<p>Shit, her leg was bouncing again. Or still. Had she ever really stopped it?</p>
<p>Pressing both hands to both of her knees, she took a deep breath, checking the time on the clock above the barista station.</p>
<p>It had been approximately nineteen minutes and forty seconds since she’d gotten the call from Merry.</p>
<p>But her bodyguard had said twenty minutes due to <em>traffic</em>. That was likely what was keeping him. She couldn’t expect him to be exactly on time, could she?</p>
<p>But true to what he’d promised, a man in black trousers and a white oxford soon walked through the door of the shop. There was a black jacket included in his ensemble as well. And he had brown hair and sunglasses that he pulled off his face. She couldn’t be certain it was him, though. His description was so vague, it could be applied to at least four other men in the coffee shop.</p>
<p>But he scanned the room and his eyes landed on her. He raised one hand and pointed at her, eyebrows raised. She nodded and he started walking towards her.</p>
<p>Without wanting or needing the reaction, Margaery’s stomach lurched.</p>
<p>It was only nerves, of course, but he <em>was</em> well fit. She might be in need of a bodyguard, but she had no idea he’d be as good-looking as he was. So perhaps a bit more than nerve was afflicting her.</p>
<p>He had brown hair, as Merry had said. But her assistant had said nothing about the curls. They were perfectly shaped, the like of which Margaery couldn’t achieve in her own hair without tons of product and three sets of hot rollers.</p>
<p>She very much doubted this man was the sort to use anything on his hair apart from shampoo, so she was left assuming that the look was natural, and if that was true, Mother Nature was a right bitch for giving it to <em>him</em>.</p>
<p>But then again, Merry hadn’t been in the room with him. Just on the phone. Or she would have definitely warned Margaery that the man guarding her wasn’t only well-fit, he was chiseled like some of the statues back in Highgarden.</p>
<p>He had wide shoulders. A broad chest that tapered down to a narrow waist. He had a good amount of height on him, and his trousers, his oxford, his jacket… everything was tailored.</p>
<p>Marg bit her lip and took a deep breath to calm herself. Right. This was business. This was a bodyguard she had hired to keep her safe. Well, her publisher was hiring him. She wasn’t. But that was beside the point.</p>
<p>He wasn’t some bloke out at a club throwing shapes and gazing at her with those deep blue eyes, so she had no right to ogle him like she was starving and he was a four-course dinner of varying types of cake.</p>
<p>Her leg was bouncing again, so she simply stood up as he approached to perhaps cut off the unwanted movement at the source. Even though he held a hand up to stop her. “No need for that, ma’am.”</p>
<p>“Oh please don’t call me that,” Margaery wrinkled her nose. “It makes me sound like an old woman. Margaery is fine.”</p>
<p>“Ms. Tyrell,” he corrected himself. And she supposed it was a valid compromise. Even if she would give anything to hear him say her name with that Northern accent of his. “I’m Agent Robb Stark. At your service. He held out his hand and she took it. His handshake felt perfunctory and short, releasing before she’d even taken into account how warm his hand was.</p>
<p>He gestured to her chair and she quickly took her seat once more. He sat across from her, folding his hands on the table and waiting for her to speak first. His blue eyes pierced sharply from across the table and, flustered, she tried to look anywhere else.</p>
<p>But she kept coming back to those eyes.</p>
<p>“Right so…” Margaery began. “My publisher hired you because I’m currently being stalked. In the interest of full disclosure, I’d like to discuss the specifics with you right now.”</p>
<p>He raised his eyebrows as if he was surprised by this admission. “Alright, but can I ask a quick question first?”</p>
<p>“Of course,” she replied, smiling brightly.</p>
<p>His eyes dropped to her lips and lingered before he spoke again. “Right, um… you say you’re being stalked. Is the stalker ignoring a restraining order?”</p>
<p>“I don’t have one,” she said stiffly. A point of contention with her, to be honest. And by his tone, she could deduce what he was about to say.</p>
<p>“Well, that would be job one, Ms. Tyrell,” he said slowly. As if she was dense or something.</p>
<p>“Wouldn’t it be novel if the fix were as easy as all that?” she asked, sarcasm dripping from every word and forming a puddle on the floor. One that he’d be hard-pressed not to drag everywhere when he spoke again. “I am not able to get a restraining order because this person is cyberstalking me, and I cannot figure out who they are. No one can. So without a name, you see… it’s difficult to receive a restraining order. Or so they told me. When the only name I could give them was KLsson.”</p>
<p>Her tone had gone from sarcastic to venomous in seconds and she could feel the heat rising in her cheeks the longer she spoke. If he was going to mock her as every other person had done, she’d be fine with purchasing a weapon for her own defense. Taking classes on how to use it to go with her self-defense classes that she now attended twice a week.</p>
<p>“Right, my apologies,” he said quickly, his hand coming out and hovering over hers before he returned it to where it had come from. “I’m sorry, Ms. Tyrell. Forgive my manners.”</p>
<p>“Or lack thereof,” she retorted.</p>
<p>“Indeed,” he agreed. “I was certainly lacking them, wasn’t I?”</p>
<p>She didn’t answer, assuming it to be a rhetorical question.</p>
<p>He continued. “KLsson you said?”</p>
<p>“With two s’s, yes,” she replied, watching as he pulled out his phone to make a note. “The ‘K’ and the ‘L’ are both capitalized.”</p>
<p>He typed the name into a blank note doc and placed the phone face up on the table beside his hands. “Alright. What can you tell me about the nature of the offenses? Aren’t you from Highgarden? Do you know that they have followed you here?”</p>
<p>“They sent me a photo of the window outside the Airbnb where I’m staying. You can see me through the blinds.” She pulled out her phone, swiping through her apps until she got to the email. It was the fourth such email she’d started in the past few months. Ever since KLsson started in on this garbage.</p>
<p>“Is this your personal email?” Robb asked.</p>
<p>Marg nodded. “It is, yes. The stalker has never attempted to contact me via my professional one. It’s the fourth one I’ve had to create, but they seem to keep finding me.”</p>
<p>“Okay, so we’ll suffice it to say that they know where you are staying. What do you need from me, Ms. Tyrell?”</p>
<p>“I’m only here for two weeks. But I need someone with me as much as possible. I’m going to switch accommodations immediately. I’ll need you to vet the abode and make doubly sure I’ll be safe there at night because that’s the only time I won’t be requiring your presence.”</p>
<p>“Alright, that’s definitely something I can do,” he replied.</p>
<p>“My publisher can pay you for any overtime you incur. Double your normal rate. They want you to want to keep me safe, as would I. And I’ve found the easiest way to ensure that sort of loyalty short term is to pay for it.” She smiled tightly. “I’m under no false delusions about you, ser. I spoke with my assistant. She told me that you didn’t know who I was. While I don’t pretend to be some sort of celebrity, I am well aware that you aren’t someone who will do more than the bare minimum that you’re paid for. Nor should you. I intend to pay you for your utmost attention.”</p>
<p>“You don’t have to pay me for that, ma’am,” he said, his voice impossibly low as he stared at her hard. She couldn’t read anything in his face, but what she pulled from his words threatened to make her weak.</p>
<p>“Margaery,” she countered.</p>
<p>“Ms. Tyrell.”</p>
<p>She smiled again. “What was your name again, Agent?”</p>
<p>“Robb Stark,” he replied.</p>
<p>“What would you prefer I call you?”</p>
<p>He pressed his lips together, a semblance of a smile appearing. “Robb’s fine.”</p>
<p>“Then so’s Margaery,” she coaxed.</p>
<p>“Margaery,” he acquiesced, eyebrows raising as he gave each syllable more attention than it rightly deserved.</p>
<p>“Lovely,” she said.</p>
<p>“Would like me to start now?” he asked abruptly.</p>
<p>“Now?” she repeated.</p>
<p>“Yes, or tomorrow?”</p>
<p>“Oh, now would be perfect,” she replied. “I have a book signing in a few hours.”</p>
<p>“Alright, I will accompany you to the signing. Do you also mind if I recommend a tactic that might be beneficial?”</p>
<p>“Go ahead,” she said.</p>
<p>“Hire a Private Investigator. They can search for the real identity of your stalker. Then you can get a restraining order, take it to the Watch.”</p>
<p>“Well, we don’t have a Watch in the Reach, we have to make due with--”</p>
<p>“Oh right,” he said, a real smile forming when he spoke. “You don’t have a Watch. You have, what is it? Weedwhackers?”</p>
<p>She raised her eyebrows. “You, ser, chose the correct vocation. Comedy is not your strong suit. We have Gardeners.”</p>
<p>He was still smiling, so she went on. “I appreciate your advice, but I’m afraid I don’t know any private investigators or even someone who knows one.”</p>
<p>“I know someone,” he said. “She’s good.”</p>
<p>“She’s a she,” Marg said. “I like her already.”</p>
<p>Robb chuckled. “Would you mind if I called her? She could come to the book signing. If anything’s amiss, she’ll spot it. You can speak to her afterward? If she’s a good fit for the job, you can discuss payment. With your… publisher if needed?”</p>
<p>“That sounds perfect. Tell me something, Robb,” Margaery mused. “How do you know this private investigator, is she a friend? A girlfriend? An ex-girlfriend?”</p>
<p>“None of those, actually. She’s my sister,” Robb replied. “But you’d know that as soon as she introduced herself. Arya’s her name, by the way. Arya Stark.”</p>
<p>“Never heard of her,” she said.</p>
<p>“I said the same thing about you,” he teased.</p>
<p>She laughed. “Gods, don’t remind me. I’m still a bit mortified.”</p>
<p>“Don’t be. There are loads of people I’ve never heard of.”</p>
<p>“So I’m not alone?”</p>
<p>“Not by far,” he assured her. She swirled her spoon in her now cold coffee. She left the spoon in the cup and reached for her bag. “I suppose we should be going? I’ll need to find another place to stay before the book signing?”</p>
<p>“Book it under someone else’s name,” he said.</p>
<p>“I already did that when I booked this place. But this person seemed to know.”</p>
<p>“Whose name?” he asked.</p>
<p>“Merry’s. My assistants,” she clarified.</p>
<p>“Use a false one,” he said knowingly. “Someone who doesn’t exist and therefore cannot be traced to you.”</p>
<p>“Ahh, good plan,” Marg said, shouldering her bag and heading for the door.</p>
<p>“Did you drive?” Robb asked.</p>
<p>“No, I--”</p>
<p>“Good, we’ll take my car. Come along then.” Robb ushered her to the car park.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <strong>ROBB</strong>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>The search for a new place to stay didn’t take as long as he was expecting it to. She found a quaint one-room cottage close enough to Winter Town that she could technically walk to a diner for breakfast.</p>
<p>The entire time she was in his car, fiddling around on her phone, he couldn’t stop thinking about her hair. What it felt like to run his fingers through it.</p>
<p>Or her scent. How she could sit in the passenger seat of his car and fill it with lilac and vanilla spice. He tried not to breathe through his nose while she swiped around on her phone looking for different accommodations.</p>
<p>She wasn’t what he’d expected, looking at her picture. Seven hells, he hadn’t even felt anything looking at it. Not that she wasn’t pretty. Because she was. She was very pretty. There was this adorable way her lips curled when she smiled. And her eyes were so big. Wide.</p>
<p>Doe-like, he was certain was the term.</p>
<p>He thought he was prepared, but in person, she was so much more than what he’d been expecting.</p>
<p>Maybe Theon was right. Maybe he did need a good lay.</p>
<p>She’d booked the flat and directed him to the bookshop where she’d be holding her book signing.</p>
<p>He walked beside her but instructed her to stay at the front of the shop with the owner while he walked around and checked everything out.</p>
<p>The exterior of the shop looked simple enough. A back door that opened into an alley with dumpsters behind the store. The front door was the only other door. And then there was the reading nook in the rafters. He’d had to climb a ladder to get up there, either that or take a service elevator that opened directed into the nook. He was fine to climb. It was a bit of a tight fit, heightwise, but it didn’t take long to discern that no one could hide there, even if they wanted.</p>
<p>He climbed down and inspected the employee break room. The janitorial closet. The bathrooms. Everything seemed fine. Inconspicuous.</p>
<p>So he went ahead and nodded to Margaery. She saw him, arched an eyebrow, and nodded almost imperceptibly.</p>
<p>She was tall and slender, with long fingers and manicured nails that were currently gripping her purse close to her chest. She walked with the practiced grace he’d come to expect from professional women, but there was a swing in her hips that he couldn’t take his eyes off of.</p>
<p>And that was a problem when his job was to look at everything around her. Not at her. Not at her arse as she moved smoothly to the table stacked high with books. Following the bookshop owner and inspecting the stacks with a smile.</p>
<p>Always with a smile. She smiled a lot.</p>
<p>And he was again, focusing on the wrong thing.</p>
<p>Robb moved to stand behind her, sort of out of the way.</p>
<p>The bookshop owner cast her eyes towards him and back to Margaery. “Is he going to be standing there the entire time, ma’am?”</p>
<p>“Margaery,” she gently corrected her. “And yes. He’s supposed to be keeping me safe, so he’ll be here the entire time.”</p>
<p>“He looks a bit menacing, no?”</p>
<p>Robb refrained from rolling his eyes and took a few steps forward, taking a book off the table and starting to arbitrarily flip through the pages. “Better?”</p>
<p>“Not much,” the owner said under her breath, but she moved on, so Robb didn’t comment on it to Margaery, who looked very much like she was psyching herself up for the actual event. Her legs bounced so much that she shook the table and when she pressed both hands down to stop them, her body shook like a paint mixer.</p>
<p>“Sometimes, it helps to take a deep breath and recite your grammar rules,” Robb said, keeping his voice low.</p>
<p>She turned to look at him, a nervous smile had replaced the coy one from before. “Every name is called a noun, as field and fountain, street and town…”</p>
<p>He smirked and panned his gaze around the entirety of the room. He could see pretty much the entire thing from here. And by the time Margaery made it to prepositions, she was noticeably calmer.</p>
<p>People started to filter in. Robb noted each and every person’s face as they milled around the shop, talked to the owner, came up to talk to Margaery, gave him a nervous glance before scurrying to their seats.</p>
<p>He brought the book up more, tried to make an effort to look like he was perusing it, and not memorizing every mole and scar he saw in the chairs.</p>
<p>Once everyone arrived, Robb was half impressed. There was a reasonable turnout. Considering the book was one about gardening, and this was the mostly frozen north.</p>
<p>But as he looked a bit deeper into the text, he realized this one was all about glass gardens. So he supposed that made sense. Closing the book once Margaery started speaking and giving her introduction, he once again scanned the crowd. There were about fifty to sixty people in the room. And no one seemed sneaky. They all seemed like a lot of middle-class people who wanted a vegetable garden all year round.</p>
<p>There was a round of Q &amp; A, where Margaery answered many of the questions her readers had. Again, they were all simple gardening questions. Once they all came up with their books, and she started signing them, it became easier to look at each and every one of them. They’d mostly forgotten about his presence, so he could really see what kinds of people they were.</p>
<p>They made small talk, complimented her on her beauty, her book, her gardening tips. And then they slowly trickled out.</p>
<p>Robb was still holding the book as he walked around to the end of the line, studying the person in front of him. They seemed strange. Twitchy, almost. Bouncing the book against their thigh as they moved up in the line.</p>
<p>But then they just turned out to be very nervous. Nerves that were soothed by Margaery and her easy smile.</p>
<p>When the line had gone, he was still standing there with his book. He set it down on the table, opened it to the front.</p>
<p>“You want me to sign one for you?” Marg asked, laughing a bit.</p>
<p>He shrugged. “I might want to grow some heirloom tomatoes this year.”</p>
<p>“You?” she asked incredulously, taking her marker and signing his in a big swirling text. “Want an inscription?”</p>
<p>“Surprise me,” he replied.</p>
<p>“To Robb, living proof that they grow them better up North,” Margaery said, making his eyes bug out momentarily.</p>
<p>But when she handed the book to him, it simply said. “Best wishes, Marg”</p>
<p>But his cheeks were flushed all the same. Flushed deep red as he looked up and saw his sister walking towards him. She came from the back, where he’d already checked, but that was Arya. And she was rolling her eyes at him.</p>
<p>“Arya’s here,” he informed Margaery.</p>
<p>“Where?” she asked, looking around the mostly empty store before turning and jumping when she saw her.</p>
<p>“Here,” his sister said, her face smoothed of all emotion as she strolled up to stand in front of the table. “Arya Stark,” she said, jutting out her hand towards Margaery.</p>
<p>Marg shook it, visibly surprised by Arya. That was nothing new. Everyone was, basically. She didn’t look fierce until it was too late. Sansa called her a little ‘murder kitten’ and Robb was the first to say it was an accurate descriptor. He wouldn’t say it to Arya’s face, but still.</p>
<p>“You’re Margaery Tyrell, Robb tells me you have a cyberstalker?” Arya continued, waving vaguely at Margaery’s attempt to stand before reaching for a chair and pulling it up beside her. Robb had to go looking for a chair, and by the time he found one, Arya was already referring to her as Marg and nodding towards the front window. “They were outside. Peering in here the entire time you were talking.”</p>
<p>Robb’s chair scraped as he stood, but Arya reached out her hand to steady him. “Easy boy. They’re gone now.”</p>
<p>“Why didn’t you stop them?” Robb asked.</p>
<p>Arya shot him a look. “First of all, I had nothing to go on at the time. And secondly, once I realized who they were, they high-tailed it out of here. Quick. Like a weasel or something.”</p>
<p>“What?” Margaery’s eyes went even wider and her face went white. The colour drained quickly.</p>
<p>“I couldn’t see who they were, but they were about five-six, five-eight in height?” “That’s about it.” Arya directed that bit at Robb, who pulled out his phone to add it to the very short note doc he’d begun about the perp.</p>
<p>“Is that all we know about them?” Robb asked.</p>
<p>“For now,” Arya replied dismissively, turning her attention to Margaery. “Marg, babe… do you have any more information you can share with me? Any correspondence? Comments on videos, Instagram? Screenshots are fine, but links are finer.”</p>
<p>“I have a file,” Margaery said, reaching for her phone. “It has some of everything on it. Can I airdrop it to you?”</p>
<p>“Please,” Arya replied.</p>
<p>Marg sent the file and replaced her phone on the table. “They’re actually here?”</p>
<p>“You knew that already,” his sister replied. “You want me to find out who they are. And I will. It’s kind of my thing. And just so I know. Who do I contact about my fee?”</p>
<p>“My publisher. I have a card…” She reached for her purse.</p>
<p>“Don’t bother, I’ll find them myself,” Arya replied, her face stuck to the phone. “I’ll get back to you when I know something. You got new accommodations, right?”</p>
<p>“Yes, I did. Should I get new ones again?” Margaery’s voice sounded thick like she was about to cry.</p>
<p>“No, should be fine,” Arya said, stopping short as she held her phone. “Hey, listen… you’re in good hands with that one, okay? He’ll keep you safe. And me? I’ll find this jack-ass who’s harassing you. You don’t need to worry about any of it, kay?”</p>
<p>Margaery sniffed and nodded.</p>
<p>“And I got one of those snake plant things for my sister on her birthday. Based on that video you posted about hard-to-kill houseplants. It’s been about six months and that thing’s still alive, so. You know. They’re Sansa Stark proof. You should start telling people that. It’ll mean something up here.” She winked and started to leave. She beckoned Robb to come to the door before stepping outside.</p>
<p>“You fancy this one?”</p>
<p>“Gods, I’m her bodyguard, Arya.”</p>
<p>“Didn’t answer my question, I see.”</p>
<p>“Because it’s inappropriate. I work for her.”</p>
<p>“You work for her publisher,” Arya smirked. “Just like she does.”</p>
<p>Robb sighed. “Are you through? Because I need to go back and--”</p>
<p>“Use your body on hers? As a shield?”</p>
<p>“Fuck off, Murder Kitten,” he reached over and shoved her playfully out the door, turning the key in the lock as she yelled something at him from the other side.</p>
<p>He went back to where Margaery was conversing with the owner. “Are you just about ready? We’ve got quite a drive ahead of us,” he said, lowering his voice.</p>
<p>“Ready when you are. Don’t forget your book,” Margaery slipped her purse over her shoulder and he took the book from her hand, smiling as he followed her out the back door to the car park.</p>
<p>The alley was dark and when her shoe stuck in a crack, his arms immediately went out to steady her. He just kept one hand on her lower back after that. For ease of guidance.</p>
<p>And nothing else.</p>
<p>He opened the car door for her, took a quick look around at their surroundings, and saw nothing out of the ordinary, so he circled back around and climbed into the driver’s seat. “Hungry? I can stop so you can get some take away before I take you to your place?”</p>
<p>“Get something we can both eat in the car if I’m starving, I know you must be.”</p>
<p>“Why do you think I suggested takeaway?” he asked, turning the key in the ignition and reaching down to turn on the radio. “I’m going to relinquish control of the music to you. Don’t make me regret that decision, yeah?”</p>
<p>“Right then. You get Spice Girls’ Greatest Hits.”</p>
<p>“Joke’s on you, I love the Spice Girls,” he retorted.</p>
<p>Her lips curled into another one of those smiles as she returned her phone to her purse. Robb, realizing that in order to begin driving, he had to look straight ahead and put the car in gear. Reverse out of the parking place.</p>
<p>So he tore his eyes away from her. From her lovely smile and wide eyes. Her laughter that he would honestly do anything if it meant he could hear it again. He forced himself not to look back at her, because if he did, it would mean confessing he was in way over his head here.</p>
<p>And Robb Stark never admitted a weakness. Not aloud, anyway.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Okay, so this one's all Marg.</p><p>I'm going to try to do the next one as all Robb to make up for this wordfest.</p><p>But anyway, I hope you enjoy it. I'm literally chewing my nails to calm my nerves here bc I am so worried about this chapter.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Extra special thanks to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/treaddelicately/pseuds/treaddelicately/works?fandom_id=242462">treaddelicately</a> for beta reading this tome and helping me fix a few areas. Please go check out her fics if you like Theonsa and Gendrya because she's written some amazing stuff!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>MARGAERY</strong>
</p>
<hr/><p>“Please, for the love of the gods, don’t make me watch more <em>Bake Off</em>,” Robb groaned, letting his head rest on the back of his end of the sofa. He’d taken up residence on the opposite end from Margaery. With one full cushion’s distance between them.</p><p>It wasn’t as if she’d been throwing herself at her strong, manly, well fit bodyguard or anything. Not more than what could be deemed her usual, friendly flirting. But she supposed the fact that he flirted back might complicate things a bit. For him.</p><p>She wasn’t sure exactly what their situation was. It wasn’t ‘employer and employee’, that was for certain. But there was still some modicum of professionalism that had to be maintained. And while they hadn’t spoken about it, Margaery had to assume Robb was the one who wouldn’t be able to maintain the bare minimum of propriety if they gave in to whatever this thing had become over the last week.</p><p>“I suppose we could watch <em>The Big Flower Fight…</em> that’s more my wheelhouse anyway,” Marg mused, not at all expecting Robb to go for it.</p><p>“Anything else is fine. So long as I don’t have to hear Paul Hollywood go on about how the dough is ‘overwerked’ anymore.” Robb made a face and she laughed as she grabbed the remote, changing the show.</p><p>He wasn’t even really watching. More listening while playing on his phone. Every so often he’d get up and take a stroll around the house. Check the back door in the kitchen and the windows in the bedroom. The door that led down to the basement. The tiny window in the loo.</p><p>All in all, this Airbnb was a better find than the one Marg had previously rented, and she enjoyed herself immensely when she could just remain here. She hadn’t gotten any more troubling emails or messages, so she felt fairly safe.</p><p>Plus, there was a security system. With cameras and everything. Of course, Robb informed her that the only thing a potential intruder would have to do was cut the phone line to disable it. After that, the security system didn’t make her feel quite as secure.</p><p>But still, there was a well-stocked eat-in kitchen and a luxurious sectional in the living room. There was also a large bathtub in the loo with clawfeet and rubbed bronze fixtures. Something Margaery had utilized basically every single night she’d been here.</p><p>Unfortunately alone. When she laid in the tub by herself, it was very apparent that two would fit in the basin nicely.</p><p>But Robb wasn’t usually here when she was. Not for long, at any rate. He’d come in, do his rounds like previously described, say his goodbyes, which would drag on until Marg almost pulled him back into the house with her, but then he’d turn and go on to wherever it was he called home.</p><p>He’d spoken now and again about Winterfell, and with a last name like Stark, she had to assume that’s where his original home was. But she couldn’t imagine a man of his age still living with his parents. Not that there was anything wrong with that. But at least to her, he didn’t seem like the type.</p><p>He seemed as if he’d have a flat somewhere. Something small and utilitarian, perhaps. Or a condo he shared with friends. Friends whom he mentioned here and there.</p><p>Margaery paused before starting the show. “Are you hungry?” she asked. “I could make something.”</p><p>“Or we could go out and get takeaway,” he offered, still staring down at his phone.</p><p>“I have food here. I could cook.”</p><p>He shook his head. “You don’t have to do that.”</p><p>“What if I want to?”</p><p>He looked up from his phone at that, his gaze was quite a bit more heated than what had previously been there. “Do whatever you want, love. I’m just saying you don’t <em>have</em> to.” His eyes were icy blue, but they could turn her into a melty puddle when he looked at her like that.</p><p>Robb had never said as much, but Margaery could tell there was something keeping him from going further than these sweltering gazes from the opposite end of the sofa. It was likely splitting his focus, wasn’t it? What with her constantly using her bedroom eyes on him until his cheeks flushed pink and he had to look away.</p><p>Not to mention how she checked out his arse in those tight trousers he wore. She almost wanted to ask how he could move in those things. Stretched so tightly over his thighs like he was poured into them. But given how agile he seemed to be, she had to assume they were made from some sort of stretchy-material. Which was fine by her.</p><p>Today, he was wearing jeans, though. Semi-casual compared to what he usually wore. He was still wearing a button-up oxford, but the jeans had thrown her for a loop.</p><p>He looked good in everything, it was officially unfair.</p><p>Pressing her lips together, she rose from the sofa and walked out to the kitchen, made it as far as putting her hand on the door of the refrigerator when her phone rang. Back out in the living room where she’d left it. Figuring it could be her publisher, she dashed back out to the phone and check the screen.</p><p>But it wasn’t her publisher. It was Arya.</p><p>“It’s your sister,” Margaery said, surprised to be hearing from her. Although it <em>had</em> been a week since she’d spoken to her at the bookshop. She supposed it was ample time to find something out if one knew where to look.</p><p>“Hello?” she said, putting the phone up to her ear.</p><p>“Marg, hey,” Arya said. “Listen, I hate calling people, so I’ll make this quick. Do you have plans tonight?”</p><p>“No, actually… I’m free all day, my lecture was canceled.”</p><p>“Want to grab dinner later and talk about what I’ve found?”</p><p>“Yeah, sounds good…” Margaery said, panic swelling in her belly. “What time? And where?”</p><p>“The Hearth on the north edge of the town square. Eightish.”</p><p>“Okay, sure, I can be there.”</p><p>“Where?” Robb mouthed.</p><p>“The Hearth. Meeting your sister. Tonight. Eight o’clock.”</p><p>He nodded. “I’ll go too.”</p><p>“Robb’s coming too,” Marg said into the phone.</p><p>“Of bloody course he is,” Arya laughed. “I’ll see you guys then.”</p><p>Something about the way Arya had spoken made Margaery feel strange. Not that it was a strange <em>feeling</em>, it was just her own reaction that was strange. She felt almost vindicated by Arya’s snarky words. The other woman spoke as if it was a given that Robb would be joining them. But not in the ‘he’s a stickler for his job’ sort of way. In another one entirely.</p><p>She placed the phone back on the side table.</p><p>“What’d she say?” Robb asked, eyes searching hers, and since she’d relayed most of the conversation already, he must be referring to those last few seconds.</p><p>“Not much, why?”</p><p>“You’re grinning. She said something about me,” Robb looked almost put upon, and Margaery couldn’t help but giggle. She hadn’t noticed she was grinning, but now that Robb had pointed it out, it was almost impossible to stop noticing.</p><p>“Nothing bad. I just said you were coming, and she said ‘of course he is’.”</p><p>“Is that it? Those exact words?” he asked.</p><p>“Of bloody course he is,” she repeated back, arching her eyebrow a bit. “Didn’t read into it too much. It’s clear she knows you’re good at your job.”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah. That’s what it is.” His voice sounded flat, like it very much wasn’t what his sister had intended at <em>all</em> by her statement, but that was all the information Marg got about that.</p><p>He had been the one who caught her gaze, likewise he was also the one who dropped it just as quickly, as if he couldn’t look at her while he spoke for fear that she’d hear the truth in the pauses.</p><p>So she stood once more to go out to the kitchen. It was still nearly one in the afternoon, and she would have to eat something before eight. She had her hand on the fridge once more when Robb called out to her. “Hey, what about I take you round to my favorite burger place, yeah?”</p><p>“What?” she asked, letting her hand drop to her side. “You want to take me to your favorite place?’</p><p>“Favorite <em>burger</em> place,” he corrected.</p><p>“I mean… I’m not about to say no.”</p><p>He beamed. “I’ve been crazy for one all day, wouldn’t want to go without you. We can go check out the glass botanical gardens after, if you’d like.”</p><p>“You’re sure that’s safe? Have you scouted it?” she asked.</p><p>“It’s got one way in, other than the cook’s entrance, and I don’t think you’ll have to worry about anyone getting in that way.”</p><p>“Why’s that?” she asked.</p><p>“Just wait and see,” he replied. “C’mon, we’ll take my car, leave yours in the garage.”</p><p>“What about the gardens?”</p><p>“They’re out in the public enough. Besides, you said you wanted to see them.”</p><p>“I did. I do,” she replied, walking away from the fridge and going to fetch her shoes and coat.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>As it turned out, the owner of Robb’s favorite burger place was also the cook. And he was at least seven feet tall.</p><p>Alright, maybe not <em>that</em> tall, but Marg was definitely gawking a bit at the taller-than-average man who greeted them jovially when they entered. She could definitely see what Robb meant when he said that no one would attempt to sneak past him. The man was practically his own bodyguard.</p><p>The place was small and narrow and smelled of charcoal and onions. There weren’t many patrons inside, but most of the tables were un-bussed, so they must have just missed them.</p><p>“Oy there, Robb! Didn’t think I’d see you this week!” the giant with red hair chortled.</p><p>“Nah, they got me looking after <em>the important people</em>,” Robb winked in her direction. He was definitely being facetious.</p><p>She arched her brow, intent on giving as good as she got. “Excuse me?”</p><p>“You heard me,” he replied, before turning back to the cook. “Tormund, where can we sit?”</p><p>“Anywhere’s fine, but nine’s cleanest.” Robb led her presumably to table nine, which she supposed was technically clean, if a bit… untidy.</p><p>“Was that a jab?” Margaery asked, trying to keep her tone frosty while she allowed Robb to pull her chair out.</p><p>“What? No!” he replied. “Nowhere else I’d rather be.” He gestured to the chair and she sat down, scooting forward before he could help her. He took a seat on the other side of the table. His leg briefly brushed hers as he got comfortable.</p><p>“Hmmm, But where else could you be?” Marg mused, not expecting him to answer.</p><p>“That Regional Rep Campaign Convention was this week. Most of the Guard is there.”</p><p>“But you’re here with me…” Margaery rolled it over in her mind. “Because you got stuck with me.”</p><p>“I never said that. And this isn’t being stuck, you’re perfectly lovely to be around.”</p><p>“Ey, Robb, what’ll you and your lady have to drink?” Tormund asked.</p><p>“I’ll have a root beer,” Robb replied and then looked at Marg, who was trying not to blush at being called ‘Robb’s lady’ by Tormund. Especially not when she was sort of annoyed with him.</p><p>She craned her neck so she could look him in the eye to answer, smiling brightly. “Same, please.”</p><p>The red-haired man winked and walked over to the drink station.</p><p>“You’re stuck with me because you’re being punished,” she deduced, not skipping a single beat.</p><p>“I was just kidding, I’m not stuck with you, Margaery,” he said with a sigh, reaching over for a napkin to mindlessly wipe the table down. It was neither dirty nor wet, so it was clearly something to keep his mind occupied.</p><p>“I suppose not. You’re being paid,” she countered.</p><p>“Look, despite my best attempts not to, I genuinely like you, you daft flower.”</p><p>She grinned, poking her tongue between her teeth. “Daft flower?”</p><p>“Yes,” he grumbled. “Daft because you continually insist I am stuck with you, no matter what I say to the contrary, and flower because well…” he gestured to her. “You’re much too soft to be up here in all this cold.”</p><p>Her eyebrows shot up, but Tormund had arrived with their drinks, so she couldn’t quite comment on Robb’s observation just yet.</p><p>He thought she was too soft? She wasn’t soft. She might be a Tyrell Rose, but roses had thorns. More of them than they had of softness, that was for certain.</p><p>“What’ll you have?” Tormund asked, hands on his hips and not looking like he had any intention of writing down their order.</p><p>“My usual, and she’ll probably need a menu.”</p><p>“No, I won’t,” she said, smirking. “I’ll have the same as him.”</p><p>Tormund’s eyebrows rose. “You will?”</p><p>“Yup.”</p><p>“You’re gonna eat all that?”</p><p>Robb’s mouth had twisted into a grin, barely concealed as he watched her look Tormund straight in the eye and nod. “Yes.”</p><p>“Alright then.”</p><p>Tormund turned and left straight away for the kitchen.</p><p>Robb chuckled.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“You know what.”</p><p>“Oh, I don’t know <em>anything</em>. I can’t read your High North humour, I’m just a daft little flower,” she replied haughtily.</p><p>He tilted his head, still grinning. “That’s not what I meant. I’m not taking your bait, Love. Exactly what are you trying to prove?”</p><p>“I’m not soft,” she said, reaching over to pull her root beer over so she could unwrap her straw and stick it in the glass. “I’m formidable.”</p><p>Robb snorted a bit, like he found something funny.</p><p>“Have you ever met any Tyrell’s, Robb?”</p><p>“None before you.”</p><p>“Are you aware that we are a matriarchy and have been for many generations?” she asked stiffly.</p><p>“I wasn’t <em>not</em> aware of that, no.”</p><p>“Well. Consider yourself reminded. And I’m not a flower, Robb Stark. I’m a rose. And I have thorns. You just haven’t encountered them yet.”</p><p>“My mistake,” he acquiesced. “You’re not a daft flower. You’re just daft.”</p><p>“Thank you,” she said, sipping from her root beer. “And you swallowed my bait whole, Robb Stark.”</p><p>He chuckled, shaking his head. He continued to titter to himself every now and again. Once the food came out, she realized why.</p><p>The burger was three patties tall, with a knife stuck in to hold it together. It was dripping with cheese and some sort of mint green sauce that made her eyes water, so it definitely wasn’t mint, no matter the colour.</p><p>“What is it?” she asked, gawking at the burger after Tormund slid it in front of her and had gone.</p><p>“That’s a triple frostbite cheeseburger, with thick-cut bacon, three kinds of cheese, and doused with frost pepper sauce.”</p><p>She sighed. They had spicy food in Highgarden. Her brothers were especially fond of chicken wings with varying degrees of hot sauce on top. But she’d never seen anything like this before.</p><p>“Jolly good,” she said, swallowing back her nerves. “And how does one eat it?”</p><p>“Any way you possibly can get it into your mouth,” Robb replied.</p><p>Marg bit down on her bottom lip and grinned.</p><p>“Oy, that’s not what I meant! I meant, eating-wise, with the--”</p><p>“The meat?” Margaery teased.</p><p>His face went bright red.“You’re stalling, Tyrell.”</p><p>“You’re the one who said it.”</p><p>“You know full well what I meant.”</p><p>“Alright then…” she gulped. “You go first so I can see how to--”</p><p>Robb kept the knife in his burger and used it to help him hoist it from the paper-lined basket to his mouth. Margaery did the same and found that not only were her hands smaller, her mouth was also.</p><p>She did manage to get a bite of two of the patties and the top bun.</p><p>It tasted good. Like a regular burger, but with an added charbroiled, woody taste that she assumed came from the cooking method. But all of that soon cleared from her mouth when the heat from the frost pepper sauce began to spread.</p><p>“Oh!” she yelped. “Oh, oh…” she clapped her hand over her mouth to finish chewing, realizing that she now had to swallow this madness and subject her poor internal organs to its tortures.</p><p>She almost spit it into a napkin and admitted defeat, but Robb was trying to hide the fact that he was laughing at her, so she rallied. Swallowing it down and feeling a cooling sensation the moment it went down her throat.</p><p>The heat dissipated and she was left feeling very much like she’d taken a large gulp of icy spring water.</p><p>“Oh!” she said, eyes wide. “Oh, wow!”</p><p>Robb grinned. “You swallowed it? Most people spit it out. Good on you.”</p><p>“I was right worried for a second there. I thought perhaps I would have to get you to take me to hospital.”</p><p>“Nah, it rights itself once you swallow it.”</p><p>“It’s actually quite lovely.” Marg leaned in and took another bite.</p><p>Robb looked flat impressed with her. She managed to try and keep up with him, but she wasn’t able to finish the entire thing, so Tormund wrapped it up in foil for her to take with her when they left.</p><p>“Does he sell the sauce?” she asked. “I’d love to buy some for my brothers.”</p><p>“He does, I’ll get some when I pay.”</p><p>“You’re not paying for me.”</p><p>“I am,” he said. “You’ve been paying for me all week.” He pushed his chair back and walked over to where the bartender would be if there was one, using the payment kiosk to pay before she could even fumble for her wallet.</p><p>“Let me at least leave a tip,” she called.</p><p>“No, I’ve got it. I added in a bottle of sauce too. Tor looks like he got busy all of a sudden.” Robb glanced back to the back of the restaurant where Tormund was flipping burgers.</p><p>“Thanks, you two!” he called, waving.</p><p>“There’s no one here, though… must be an online order?” Marg mused aloud.</p><p>“He does get a few of those.”</p><p>He pushed up on the counter and slid over to the other side so he could bend down behind it, plucking a bottle of the minty green sauce from an unseen shelf and quickly moving back over the counter. “I bought one of these, Tor!” Robb waved the sauce in the air and Tormund gave him a thumbs up.</p><p>“C’mon. The glass gardens are about ten minutes from here,” Robb said, taking her leftovers and a paper bag from the rack on the wall next to the door. He shook it open and dropped her food and the sauce inside, folding over the top and shaking his head when she tried to grab it from him.</p><p>“You ass, you already paid, I’m perfectly capable of--” She grabbed the bag and Robb jerked it away, but she held fast, which only dragged her closer to him.</p><p>Close enough to smell his cologne. And his deodorant, probably.</p><p>Close enough to tell that her forehead was just the right height for him to press his lips to it. And he could have done if he’d just moved a scant inch closer.</p><p>She looked up at him, he stepped back and yanked the bag from her with a mischievous lilt of his eyebrows. “C’mon, Ms. Tyrell,” he said crisply.</p><p>“Oh, I’m back to Ms. Tyrell, then?”</p><p>“You always were Ms. Tyrell.”</p><p>“Call me Margaery,” she countered. “Or I’ll call you <em>Mr. Stark</em>.”</p><p>He wrinkled his nose. “That’s my dad. Don’t like that.”</p><p>“And I like it when you call me that? My mum’s Ms. Tyrell.”</p><p>“Fine. <em>Margaery</em>.”</p><p>“Marg,” she teased.</p><p>“Oh c’mon, you’re not being fair now,” he said, shifting the bag over to his other hand. The newly empty one, he offered to her, and when she took it, he smiled and started walking.</p><p>Marg had little choice but to go with him, but she liked the way his hand felt enveloped around hers while they walked back to the car.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>They had walked around the Glass Gardens long enough for the sun to go down and for the staff to turn on the twinkling lights that adorned the larger trees. After that, it was very difficult to leave, but Robb finally dragged her out at a quarter till eight.</p><p>The semi-warm sunlight that had graced them that afternoon had given way to a frigid night, and it didn’t help that they’d been walking around in the balmy Glass Gardens for most of the day. But luckily, it was just a twelve-or-so-minute drive up to the pub.</p><p>The Hearth was a warm, cozy place that lived up to its name. The fireplace was enormous, and she almost sighed in relief as they stepped inside.</p><p>She’d tucked her hands into a pair of chenille gloves, but still had both jammed into the pockets of a jacket she had already realized was far too light for this weather. But then again, she never usually had to be out at this time of night, so it didn’t matter. Once she arrived at her rental that night, she was definitely taking a hot bath.</p><p>Robb spotted Arya first. And honestly, Marg wasn’t sure if she’d have ever seen the other woman across the large room. Arya was so tiny and good at hiding, she very nearly blended in with her surroundings.</p><p>Margaery supposed it was qualities like that which made Arya an excellent P.I.</p><p>Robb’s hand appeared on her lower back as he steered her through the crowd, only dropping once they got close to Arya’s table.</p><p>She raised her glass to them as they approached. “Drink?” she asked.</p><p>“I’m on duty,” Robb reminded her, which earned him an overly exaggerated eye roll from his younger sister, then she turned to Margaery.</p><p>“I’m fine, thanks,” Margaery said, smiling weakly. She’d been fine walking through the glass gardens, but the second they stepped outside till now, her anxiety had been steadily climbing.</p><p>She proceeded to have a seat in one of the chairs near Arya, and Robb took another one, scooting it infinitesimally closer to Margaery before settling in place. He had a view of the door from his vantage point, and he sat sprawled in the chair, his eyes unreadable as Arya took another swig from her pint.</p><p>Alternately, Margaery sat ramrod straight, her hands on her knees to stop them from bouncing. “Have you found anything?” she asked, almost scared to know the answer.</p><p>“Okay, so let me just start by saying, whoever this is? They know how to cover their tracks,” Arya said, swiping at her phone to pull up a document.</p><p>“What do you mean?” Robb asked.</p><p>“Well, they’ve got sock puppet accounts like whoa,” Arya said. “They just kept popping up.”</p><p>“Who?” Marg asked, alarmed. “Have I ever interacted with any of them?”</p><p>“I’ve got a list with at least six other screen names they use. It’s mostly just keyboard smashes, they only use them once and then never again.” She tapped around on her screen and then showed it to Margaery. “But there’s one here… GoldenOne111. That one, they use it a bunch.”</p><p>Panic clenched Marg’s gut. She definitely recognized the name. Not someone she’d spoken with a ton, but she could remember interactions involving that screen name. “GoldenOne111’s them? You’re sure?” she asked, aghast.</p><p>“Yeah, it’s them. The grammar’s even the same…” Arya tapped on her phone again, showing her two posts that she’d stuck side by side. One was KLsson’s, and one was GoldenOne111’s. She was right. They <em>were</em> similar. “Also, they use the same device to make the posts. It’s a smartphone, not a computer, but that’s all I can tell you. I can’t find an IP address on them. But I figured as much. You can use a proxy and hide your IP pretty effectively. And it’s not hard, either. An idiot could do it.”</p><p>“Oh god, I’ve talked to GoldenOne111 on Insta…” Marg groaned. “They asked for tips on how to become an influencer and I’ve been giving them to them.”</p><p>“When’s the last time you spoke to them?”</p><p>Margaery pulled out her phone to open the app, but once she had, she realized that not only was her chat log with GoldenBoi gone, They had blocked her completely.</p><p>“They blocked me…” she said, glancing up.</p><p>“Ooof, that’s not good,” Arya visibly winced.</p><p>“Why?” Marg asked.</p><p>“Because. It means they’re onto me…” Arya frowned. “Listen. I’ll lay low and keep checking around. You just go about your normal schedule. Have Robb there.”</p><p>“Okay, what else could happen?”</p><p>“You have no reason to be afraid. I don’t believe they’re not going to do anything when you’re in public. Just judging by their prior behavior. They don’t want an audience, they want <em>your</em> attention. If they pull shit in public, they run the risk of being caught. And they don’t want that, because they again, want <em>your</em> attention. If they get arrested, they can’t get it anymore. So, my other question is, have they contacted you at all since you switched addresses?”</p><p>“No. I haven’t gotten any messages or anything,” Marg replied. “I turned off my GPS on my phone before I even went to my new place.”</p><p>Her leg was bouncing again, and she pressed her hand hard on her knee to make it stop. She felt the brush of Robb’s fingers on her arm for a moment. She took a deep breath and her legs stilled. She couldn’t see him, but she leaned into his touch briefly before his hand disappeared.</p><p>“Good. Okay, well. Just keep an eye on that, and I’ll see what I can do,” Arya said. “Don’t worry. They’re a slimy little coward. I’ll smoke them out soon.”</p><p>“Should I be arranging for twenty-four-hour protection for her?” Robb finally asked.</p><p>“I mean, not <em>officially</em>,” Arya said, completely straight-faced.</p><p>Robb, on the other hand, turned as red as the roses back in Highgarden. “Arya, I swear to the gods, this is serious.”</p><p>“Did I sound as if I was joking?” Arya asked, the very picture of indifference.</p><p>Margaery couldn’t help but smile at her. If only because Robb looked especially adorable in that shade of crimson.</p><p>“Fine, I’ll change the subject, Robb. Has Sansa spoken with you?” Arya asked as she took another sip of her pint.</p><p>“Yeah, I saw her earlier in the week,” Robb replied, after a long moment of silence where Marg wasn’t sure if he’d ever answer.</p><p>From what Margaery had found out via bits of conversations with Robb, Sansa was Robb’s other sister. The one dating his best friend. Or sleeping with his best friend. Both. Or something.</p><p>“Yeah well, Joff is <em>still</em> staying at Mum’s. So she’s been at Theon’s, because you know.”</p><p>“Can’t really blame her, I’d choose Theon over Joff,” Robb replied. “Little prick. Mum and Dad asked me out for dinner this weekend and I have never been so happy to say no.”</p><p>Theon, Margaery knew, was Robb’s best friend. Dating Sansa. Sleeping with Sansa. Whatever. Yeah.</p><p>“Joff’s our dad’s best friend’s son,” Arya quickly explained to Marg, who must have had a blank look of confusion on her face, because Robb apologetically elaborated as well.</p><p>“Yeah, he’s staying with our parents for some reason this week.”</p><p>“Some reason?” Arya laughed. “He didn’t want to split a room with his dad.”</p><p>Right, <em>his</em> dad. Joff’s dad. Their dad’s best friend. It was like a cast of a soap opera with these people. Their father’s best friend’s son was staying with his parents. Robb’s best friend is dating his sister. (Or sleeping with her.)</p><p>“I’m surprised Robert’s not staying with Mum and Dad as well.”</p><p>Marg was fairly certain she recognized Robert’s name. Especially paired with Joff. She couldn’t recall ever meeting a Joff, but it sounded familiar all the same.</p><p>“Mum would never allow <em>that</em>.”</p><p>“She let the little demon stay there,” Robb muttered.</p><p>“Robert and Joffrey <em>Baratheon</em>?” Margaery asked, looking between the two.</p><p>“You know them?” Arya asked. “I’m so sorry. You have my condolences.”</p><p>Marg huffed out a laugh. “I mean, I’ve only met them once. They came for a visit to High Garden to see my Grandmother. She wasn’t entirely fond of his wife.”</p><p>“What, she wasn’t fond of Cersei? No, say it isn’t so…” Arya deadpanned, which Margaery took to mean that no one was fond of Cersei Baratheon.</p><p>“I wouldn’t know. I only met the son. And only briefly when I was in the gardens. Not enough time to form an opinion…”</p><p>“The gods blessed you that day,” Robb said flatly, causing Arya to snort out a laugh.</p><p>“Anyway,” Arya continued. “I’ve got a fiver for you if Sansa never goes back home.”</p><p>He chuckled. “I’m not taking that bet. Because I agree with you. And it’s about bloody time, Theon’s only been asking her to move in since they got together.”</p><p>“Too right,” Arya said, finishing off the pint.</p><p>It seemed as if Arya had successfully mitigated the damage she’d caused. Robb, much less crimson than before, cleared his throat and turned to Margaery.</p><p>“C’mon, Marg. We should get you home,” he said, rising to his feet and taking a few steps towards the door.</p><p>Margaery thanked Arya for her help, and the latter assured her she’d be in touch daily from now on. She reminded Marg that she only had a week left here, so it was almost over. And she knew a P.I in the south who would be able to take over her investigation if she couldn’t finish it by then.</p><p>Robb circled back and placed a hand on her lower back once more, effectively steering her out of the pub as she waved to Arya over her shoulder.</p><p>“You’re in some sort of a hurry, aren’t you?” Marg asked.</p><p>“To get you home because your cyberstalker is still evading my sister? Yep, you guessed it.”</p><p>The car ride was somewhat tense, considering he took lots of back roads and circled around, retracing his routes a lot until they finally got back to her rental.</p><p>He was mostly silent until pulling into her driveway and parking the car. “Hey, so…” he began, turning to look at her with those blue eyes of his. Sucking her in, holding her there.</p><p>Something had changed. He’d switched out of bodyguard mode and into something else entirely. Something she usually only saw glimpses of.</p><p>It was definitely something she wanted more of, but besides being her usual, bubbly, flirty self, she hadn’t done very much at all to try to peel back that facade to see what was underneath.</p><p>Robb wasn’t that kind of guy. She could tell this wasn’t some casual thing in his eyes. From basically the first ten minutes she’d known Robb Stark, she could tell there was nothing flippant about him. So while some other bodyguards might have jumped at the chance for a temporary fling with her, she wasn’t going to get that from Robb.</p><p>It was almost adorable, but she sensed now wasn’t the time to tell him that either.</p><p>“Hmm?” she asked, the visage of nonchalance.</p><p>“About what my sister said. It wasn’t appropriate. I’m sorry about that. I promise I’m not looking to take advantage of you while you’re…”</p><p>“You’re worried about taking advantage of <em>me</em>?” she asked, blinking in surprise.</p><p>“Well, yeah? I mean, you’ve got this idiot tracking you down, and no one seems to take it seriously… I’m sorry, but I don’t agree with my sister that this person isn’t dangerous. They’ve come all the way up here to follow you. It’s not normal.”</p><p>“None of it’s normal, Robb,” Margaery began. “And for what it’s worth, I was worried I was taking advantage of you.”</p><p>“Of me?” he parroted, laughing a little. “Why?”</p><p>“Our situation, I guess? Even though we’re both technically working for my publishing company, I feel I’ve been splitting your focus on purpose, and I apologise, I will stop.”</p><p>“You’ve been doing it on purpose?” His laugh was real this time. “Because you want… and I thought I was being… I’m so stupid.” She grinned a bit, and he practically melted back against his seat, his hand reaching out for her and stopping just short of its goal. “Gods, your smile…” he murmured.</p><p>She felt her cheeks warming up, and she barreled forward. “Does it make you feel any better that I’ve been flirting shamelessly with you all week?”</p><p>“A bit, yeah.”</p><p>“And we can’t act on this at all?” she asked, shifting in her seat. “Not even after you’re off duty?”</p><p>He looked longingly at her lips. “It really all depends upon if I can separate these feelings, doesn’t it?”</p><p>“Can you?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” he said. “But they’re here whether we act on them or not…”</p><p>“I’ll leave it up to you then,” she said.</p><p>He sighed heavily, looking very miserable indeed. “Perhaps, after all this is over and you go back home, I could… come for a visit? I have some vacation time coming up,” he offered, which did little to quell the nervous feeling in her stomach.</p><p>Her eyebrows rose. “You want to tour the Reach, then?”</p><p>“Specifically Highgarden,” he said softly.</p><p>“Ah, I see. You’ve an eye for our rose gardens? They are <em>very </em>lovely.”</p><p>He shook his head. “Just one particular rose.”</p><p>Margaery smiled, leaning forward slightly. She had said she’d leave it up to him, but then he had to go and say something so delightfully cheesy that he had effectively called her bluff. Robb leaned forward as well, and they got close enough that she could feel his breath on her face, but then he stopped her. And sighed again.</p><p>“We shouldn’t,” he said slowly, leaving enough time for Margaery to interject. Looking like he wanted nothing more than for her to interject. And as much as she wanted to, she couldn’t think of anything. Besides. It was a week. She could wait a week.</p><p>She sat back in her seat, blushing a little. “You’re right, we shouldn’t.”</p><p>He was silent for a long moment. “Right, okay… just going to go check the flat now. I’ll be right back.”</p><p>“Okay, but go really quickly, so I’m not out here alone for very long.” She handed him the keys but grabbed his wrist before he could duck out of the car completely. “Just a sec.” Margaery reached into the back seat, grabbing the paper bag, and handing him the leftovers. “Will you go put those in the fridge for me?”</p><p>“Be really quick, or run your errands for you?” he teased, taking the bag and walking up the path to the front of the house.</p><p>He took his usual amount of time. She practically had his routine memorised by now. Of course, by asking him to put away the leftovers, she’d added a bit onto that total, but he was soon leaving the house.</p><p>Robb came out onto the porch, smiling as she opened the car door to go meet him in the yard so he could do the handoff of the keys.</p><p>“Everything looks--”</p><p>There was an impossibly loud noise. And the tinkle of glass as it blew out into the yard.</p><p>Luckily, Robb was far enough away not to be hit by any of said glass, but Margaery’s mouth fell open. Her feet felt rooted to the spot as he ran over to her, scooping her up in his arms and carrying her across the street in one seamless movement that felt very much like what she’d imagine an undertow felt like.</p><p>“What… What… Gods, what was that?”</p><p>Robb swallowed and pulled out his phone, reaching for her hand as they both sat on the grass. “I don’t know, but if I had to venture a guess… that slimy bastard figured out where you were staying.”</p><p>She kept her hand in his as he called. Called the Watch. Called his boss. Called hers.</p><p>And once the flashing lights descended upon the quiet neighborhood, time ceased to move forward. It kept jumping back and forth as she first repeated the experience to the Watch. And then to Captain Mormont. And then to her boss. And then the Watch again.</p><p>All the while, an EMT was checking her vitals. Squeezing her hands, having her wiggle her toes, wrapping her in a shock blanket even though she wasn’t in shock.</p><p>She wasn’t.</p><p>She was <em>angry</em>. Fucking pissed.</p><p>All she wanted was something normal. And this slimy bastard couldn’t even give her that.</p><p>She wanted to spend the evening being comfortable. Alone and safe. But now, here she was, surrounded by people, in the back of an ambulance and repeating <em>again</em> every single thing she could remember to the Watch.</p><p>“How many more statements does she have to give?” a familiar voice asked. It was usually so soft when he spoke to her, but now, it was sharp. Authoritative. Robb barked and growled like the wolf on his family’s sigil, elbowing through the crowd of officers in front of her.</p><p>“She’s given it twice, but we wanted to be sure--”</p><p>“That’s enough then,” he pronounced. “I need to take her to a safe location. I assume you got a recording?”</p><p>“That we did,” an officer replied. “But not to worry about that. We’ll handle it. She can come down to the station--”</p><p>“I’ve been hired to keep her safe,” Robb countered.</p><p>“Agent Stark, we understand, but this is now a Watch case. We won’t be needing your services any longer.”</p><p>“She shouldn’t go to the station after the ordeal she’s had,” he argued.</p><p>“Well, we’d procure a safe room for her in one of the hotels, but with the convention in town…”</p><p>“Use my place,” Robb said.</p><p>“You’re off the case, Stark. Go home and get some sleep,” the officer said bluntly.</p><p>“Use my place,” Robb repeated. “You’re overrun down at the station. You’re giving cases to the Guard.”</p><p>“What’s so special about your place?”</p><p>“I <em>want</em> to go there,” Margaery interjected. “I don’t want to go to the station with you. I want to go to sleep.”</p><p>Robb shot the officer a look of triumph, and Margaery doubled down. “He’s trained. What’s safer than a trained bodyguard keeping me safe?”</p><p>“The entire station-full of the Watch,” the officer said dryly.</p><p>“I’ll come up there straight away tomorrow,” she promised. “Won’t be able to do anything tonight, will we?”</p><p>The officer sighed, looking at once as tired as she felt, and waved his hand. “We’ll send a car to patrol the street outside your home, Agent. And I expect both of you back at the station at eight AM sharp.”</p><p>Robb reached past the officer and Margaery extended her hand, allowing him to tug her to her feet. His arm went protectively around her waist as he steered her towards a car that she didn’t recognize.</p><p>“This is my captain, Jorah Mormont,” he explained, helping her into the front seat.</p><p>Robb climbed into the back and the man driving looked over at Margaery. She recognized him from earlier. “Are you alright?” He had a soft voice and an accent like Robb’s.</p><p>She nodded. “Just tired.”</p><p>He nodded and looked into the rearview mirror at Robb. “To yours?”</p><p>“Yes ser,” Robb replied, sitting ramrod straight as he watched all sides of them. Noting cars that could be following them.</p><p>“I have some Watch tailing us,” Captain Mormont explained.</p><p>Robb nodded, but didn’t relax. “Speaking of, what do they know?”</p><p>“It was a poorly made bomb, lucky for you,” Mormont said. “Other than that, nothing yet.”</p><p><em>A bomb</em>. It hadn’t really sunk in. The explosion wasn’t big. Big enough to mess up the kitchen, but not big enough to harm her or Robb. Big enough that she couldn’t stay there. She couldn’t take anything with her.</p><p>“My things,” Marg exclaimed. “My clothes and--”</p><p>“The bomb squad has to inspect everything in the house, but you’ll get them back tomorrow, most likely,” Captain Mormont replied. His voice was a touch kinder when he spoke to her than it was with Robb.</p><p>The unspoken issue was finding herself some pyjamas for the night, but she dismissed it as a thing of no importance almost as soon as she thought of it. She didn’t care what she slept in. She was dead tired. It didn’t matter.</p><p>They pulled up in front of a building that Robb needed to punch in a passcode in order to enter. And then he had to get out and explain to the gentleman at the gatehouse who both of them were. She suddenly felt loads safer here than she ever had before.</p><p>The Captain and Robb gave the apartment a search before deeming it safe. Marg was practically falling asleep on her feet when Captain Mormont bid them goodnight and left them alone.</p><p>Robb was still at attention and hyperaware, eyes darting around as he locked the door and went to check on the balcony door as well.</p><p>She toed off her shoes and looked around the living room and realized with a moderate amount of amusement that she couldn’t have been more wrong about Robb’s decorating tastes. It wasn’t stoic or austere by any measure of the words. She was too tired to accurately describe the mess that was the jumble of movie posters with the odd interesting furniture piece that could have been homemade, but she wasn’t sure.</p><p>“Where am I sleeping?” she asked, her voice sounding hollow even to her own ears.</p><p>“In mine,” he said. “I’ll take the couch. C’mon. I have something you can borrow to sleep in.”</p><p>She followed him back to the bedroom, which was more of the same eclectic (and that was putting it nicely) mix of furniture and movie posters.</p><p>It was clean, though. That could be said of the entire flat. It smelled like cleanser and a bit like the scent that lingered on him.</p><p>He rummaged in one of his bureau drawers and came out with a faded t-shirt with the Guard’s logo on the front, and a pair of grey sweatpants. “Is this alright?” he asked, holding them out towards Margaery.</p><p>She nodded.</p><p>“I have a spare toothbrush, I’ll go get it for you… if you need a shower, everything’s in there… I could run out and buy you shampoo or something if you need it…”</p><p>“Do you mind if I just use what’s in there?” Margaery asked softly.</p><p>“Not at all, no… I just didn’t know if…”</p><p>“Thank you, Robb…” she said.</p><p>He looked nervous, bouncy, almost as he flitted around the apartment, pulling towels and washcloths out of the linen closet for her, and making sure she knew how to work the shower.</p><p>Gone was the wolf who had rescued her from the throngs of Night’s Watch officers. If she had to call him any kind of animal right now, it’d be a mother hen.</p><p>She reached for his hand as he turned to leave the loo to give her some privacy. He stopped abruptly and she ran her thumb over the back of his hand. “Are you alright?”</p><p>“I’m fine,” he replied as if it were obvious. “Are you?”</p><p>“No,” she said truthfully.</p><p>“What do you need?”</p><p>She shook her head. “I dunno.”</p><p>“Are you hungry?” he asked, sounding very much as if he wanted that to be true, but all that did was remind her of her leftovers that she’d given to him to place in the fridge. Gods, if she hadn’t done that… if she…</p><p>She sniffed and started to swallow the lump in her throat, but Robb moved in closer, wrapping both arms around her as she collapsed.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” she sobbed, and she felt his hand on the back of her head, coaxing her to curl against him, so she did. She wasn’t certain how they ended up on the floor, but they did. He was leaning against the tub and she was curled in his lap, her fists bunched into his shirt as she wailed into his chest. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”</p><p>“You’ve got nothing to be sorry over,” he reminded her. “You didn’t do anything wrong, love.”</p><p>“I told you to go put the leftovers away, if I hadn’t done that--”</p><p>“Then you would have and you might not have been so lucky,” he finished for her. “No one is hurt. I’m not hurt. You’re not hurt. And if it’s the burger you’re missing, I’ll call Tor and have him bring a fresh one over at the end of his shift, is that what you’d like?”</p><p>She laughed. It sounded watery, yet thick. And foreign to her ears. But she laughed.</p><p>“There now, feel better?” he asked. She lifted her head from his chest and wiped her nose on the back of her hand.</p><p>“Yes. I made a mess on your shirt, though..”</p><p>“I think I’ll live,” he replied. Margaery stood with his help, and he got to his feet. “Be back in a tick,” he said, ducking out of the loo and coming back with a box of tissues.</p><p>“Thanks,” she took one to clean herself up and then wrapped both arms around him again, hugging him tightly.</p><p>“Okay so where are we on food?”</p><p>“I’ll just take some tea?” she said.</p><p>“I can do that.”</p><p>“Okay, I’ll shower fast and be there in a mo, okay?”</p><p>“Take your time.”</p><p>Margaery closed the door behind him, thinking twice and then leaving it open a crack before she started the shower, undressed, and got in.</p><p>She smelled like him when she stepped out. A scent that she soon realized came from the soap.</p><p>She dried herself and her hair the best she could and pulled on the clothes Robb had lent her.</p><p>The shirt swallowed her, and the sweatpants as well, but she was able to tighten the drawstring, so it wasn’t too awful. She was self-conscious for just a moment before stepping out into the hallway.</p><p>If anything, he’d <em>like</em> seeing her in his clothes, so she didn’t have a thing to worry about.</p><p>She folded up her clothing neatly, hiding her bra between her slacks and her blouse.</p><p>“Where should I put my…” she began.</p><p>“Oh, right… I should have a bag or something you could put them in…”</p><p>Robb rounded the corner from the kitchen and nearly ran headlong into her, but he put both arms out to grasp at her shoulders and steady himself. His eyes widened as he looked down. He swallowed thickly and dropped his arms.</p><p>“Just a second…”</p><p>He rummaged in the hall closet, coming back with a canvas shopping bag. “Will this work?</p><p>“As well as anything else,” Margaery replied.</p><p>She dropped her clothes inside and he took the bag to hang on the coat rack by the door, his eyes cutting back to her every so often.</p><p>“Do I look alright?” she asked, earning a blush and a stammered reply as he ducked into the fridge and came back with cream for the tea.</p><p>“You look… lovel--fine. You look just fine, and I wasn’t sure how you took your tea, so I figured I’d let you make it…”</p><p>“Cream no sugar,” she replied.</p><p>“No sugar,” he repeated, pouring in the cream and handing her the mug. “That because you’re sweet enough?”</p><p>She grinned. “So I hear.”</p><p>They each took a seat at his dining room table. She sipped the tea, and she waited for Robb to speak again. But he didn’t. He kept sneaking looks at her and then looking back at his hands.</p><p>“So am I officially in the hands of the Watch?”</p><p>“It would appear that way,” he said. “All it took was a bomb to get them to pay attention.” He set his jaw and for a moment, Marg saw a glimpse of who she’d seen back at the ambulance.</p><p>“I’m staying here as a friend?” she asked.</p><p>“Yes,” he replied.</p><p>“Good to know,” she said, concentrating on finishing her tea.</p><p>Afterward, she went out to the kitchen to wash out her mug. Robb dried it for her and ran water in his as well.</p><p>She wasn’t sure who made the first move. Or even if it was on purpose or accidental. But when she turned, she bumped into him, and his hands came out once again, resting on her shoulders to steady her. Or him, she wasn’t sure.</p><p>But this time, when she looked up at him, his eyes were blindingly dark. He was biting on his bottom lip long enough for a burst of white to bloom back to pink when he released it.</p><p>Margaery rose on her tiptoes and leaned forward, closing her eyes and half expecting him to stop her again.</p><p>Except he didn’t.</p><p>His lips met hers, softly at first while his fingers dug into her shoulders. She let her hands smooth up the front of his chest and he dropped his hands down to encircle her waist.</p><p>She moved closer, and he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. She could feel the harsh rasp of his stubble when she moved. He growled slightly in the back of his throat, a sound she felt rather than heard. Clutching handfuls of his shirt, she released him, breathing heavily until she opened her eyes and looked up.</p><p>“Sorry,” he began.</p><p>“Don’t you dare apologise for that,” she countered. “That was lovely.”</p><p>It was far better than lovely. It left her tingling from her head to her toes.</p><p>“Lovely,” he murmured, ducking down to capture her lips once more. She would have happily stayed there, kissing him all night, but of course, everything caught up with her at the worst possible moment.</p><p>She pulled back, turning her head to stifle a yawn.</p><p>He brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. The brush of his fingers was so tender, it almost hurt. “Right,” he said. “You’re exhausted. Off to bed with you.”</p><p>Robb spun her around before she could argue and led her down the hall. He walked into the bedroom ahead of her and turned down the bed. She waited for him to finish and once he had, he lingered before leaning over to kiss her goodnight. He started to walk to the door, and Margaery reached for his hand again.</p><p>“Stay?” she asked.</p><p>He stopped at the door, turning back to face her. “You sure?”</p><p>“I mean we don’t have to--”</p><p>“Oh, I wasn’t suggesting that!” he exclaimed. “I just… if you want privacy…”</p><p>“The last thing I want is to be alone. And maybe suggest <em>that</em> again after I’ve slept, kay?” She beamed, and he groaned.</p><p>“Oh right, that’s helping loads. Thanks, Margaery,” Robb huffed. “I’ll be right back, just going to turn out the lights and check the door again. And probably take a shower. And check the door again. You don’t have to wait up, I’ll be in there shortly.”</p><p>“It’s your flat, Robb,” she reminded him, smiling as she went back to the loo because he’d reminded her that she had yet to brush her teeth.</p><p>Marg opened the spare toothbrush he had set out for her. It was green and nearly identical to the blue one he had in the cup by the sink. After she’d finished, she nearly ran into Robb in the hallway.</p><p>“Sorry,” she said, turning to the side so he could squeeze past her into the loo.</p><p>She thought she might fall asleep before he finished in the shower, but she was still just barely awake when he emerged from the bathroom. He was wrapped in a towel, beads of water glistening on his shoulders as she rolled over and propped up on the pillow.</p><p>“You’re still awake?” he asked, rummaging through the drawers one-handed.</p><p>“Yep. Didn’t want to miss the show.”</p><p>“The Gun Show?” he asked, winking in her direction as he pulled out pyjamas and tossed them over his shoulder.</p><p>“That what you’re calling it?” she asked.</p><p>He chuckled. “Sorry to disappoint, but you’d be getting more of a show than you bargained for if I let go of this towel…”</p><p>She didn’t respond, merely arched her eyebrows until he blushed and left to change.</p><p>When he returned, he thankfully hadn’t put a shirt on. He crawled into bed beside her, but with a healthy amount of distance before leaning over to turn out the light.</p><p>She scooted closer. So did he.</p><p>Grinning, she scooted over once again, extending her legs and brushing his feet with her icy cold ones.</p><p>He yelped and immediately recoiled. “Blimey, you been holding those out the window?”</p><p>“Thought you were from the North and could handle a bit of cold,” she teased.</p><p>“I’m from the North, so I know how to keep <em>warm</em>,” he countered.</p><p>She paused, lingering on the innuendo in that sentence. “Well, I’m tired right now, but maybe first thing in the morning, you can show me how you keep warm in the North,” she replied.</p><p>He snorted, likely blushing. But it was dark, and she was dead tired, so she’d have to just assume for now. She rolled over, adjusting the pillows and curling up with her back to him. “Goodnight, Robb.”</p><p>“Night, Margaery.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Will be updating Monday July 6, 2020</p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>As promised, here is the Robb chapter, and it's also the SMUT chapter, so that was a fun way to paint myself in a corner 😂😂😂</p><p>Anyway, I hope you enjoy it, I added another chapter to the total chapter count because it was necessary after my ridiculously wordy smut took up most of this one.  Seriously, this cliffie here at the end of this one sort of snuck up on me and I realized that another chapter was going to be needed to wrap this up. So next week, I'll be posting chapter 4 and the epilogue.  </p><p>Special thanks to my beta, treaddelicately, who helped me out so much with this and also assured me that taking a week off from this fic was really okay.  (I totally needed it, and I'm glad to be back now!)</p><p>And thank you to everyone who's been reading/commenting!  You're giving me life, thanks so much!</p>
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    <p>
  <strong>ROBB</strong>
</p><hr/><p>When Robb woke up, he was so <em>warm</em>. Almost verging on too warm, his nose full of a scent that was familiar and not all at once. Something was tickling his nose and he kept reaching up to swipe it away, only to have it return soon after.</p><p>When he finally opened his eyes, he realized what it was.</p><p>Margaery’s hair. It was silky, fluffy, and had taken over the entire pillow.</p><p>But that was the least of his troubles.</p><p>He had one arm wrapped around her waist. His hand was resting on the bare skin of her belly having snuck up under the t-shirt she was wearing. Oh, and he had her pulled flush against him.</p><p>Swallowing thickly, he hoped like mad he could disengage from her without waking her up.</p><p>Her skin was so soft, though, and hot to the touch. Speaking of touching, there was another matter entirely that was hard, stiff, and pressing against the cleft of her arse. If he remained where he was, she’d surely feel it and think…</p><p>Gods, what would she think?</p><p>That he was disgusting and rutting against her in her sleep?</p><p>Margaery shifted in her sleep, pressing even more firmly against his prick and he quickly rolled to his back, slowly sliding his arm out from under her.</p><p>Robb wondered then if he should just get up and take care of it himself in the bathroom. It was something he could take care of himself. He’d done it many times. Especially in the past year.</p><p>It sounded like the best plan of action, seeing as he now knew what her backside felt like, rocking against his--</p><p>“Are you getting up?” she asked, voice clear as a bell as she turned over to prop up on her hand. “I need to brush, is why I’m asking.”</p><p>Had she been awake the whole time? Was she not asleep when she’d--</p><p>“Bathroom’s-- all yours,” he said, his lips twisting into what he could only hope was a smile and not a grimace of pain. Because the thought that she’d been actively seeking him out, it made things just that much more unbearable. In his… trousers area. The, um… the evergreen situation of the morning persuasion.</p><p>His fucking boner.</p><p>Fuck.</p><p>Margaery smiled, reaching for the sheet and peeling it back. She turned and climbed out of bed, her bare legs making his mouth water as he scrambled to remember if she’d started out with something covering them.</p><p>She had, right? She’d been wearing his sweat pants.</p><p>Now she wasn’t. Her legs were bare and smooth and fuck, this wasn’t helping. He could likely hammer nails now.</p><p>She was back in a few moments, smelling faintly of his minty toothpaste and climbing back into bed again. “I was warm,” she explained, gesturing down to where her legs were.</p><p>“Understandable…” How he was able to choke out a word was a feat in and of itself.</p><p>“You’re very warm,” she said with a wink. “Is that a Northerner thing, or--”</p><p>“It helps if you’re not alone…” he said, coughing and peeling back the comforter for himself. “I’ll be back.”</p><p>“Not too long, I hope…” she grinned and propped herself up on some pillows, her hair fanning out behind her.</p><p>He wasn’t thinking clearly enough to decipher what she meant, except that she wanted him back in bed.</p><p>In which case, it was good that he could hammer nails, right? Women liked it when a man finished two seconds after he stuck it in, didn’t they? He sighed heavily and tried to think of non-arousing things.</p><p>Robb brushed his teeth as slowly as he could and returned to the bedroom with his heart in his throat, and never more aware of exactly how long it had been since he’d done this.</p><p>One year, two months and change.</p><p>Margaery was propped up on pillows, looking through her phone when he came back in.</p><p>She had her hair sort of gathered up and tossed over one shoulder. His t-shirt was hiked up her thighs but covered pretty much anything indecent. Well, it covered the important bits. He was starting to think that every inch of Margaery’s legs were indecent.</p><p>In the best sort of way, of course.</p><p>“Something wrong?” she asked, wide doe-like eyes settling on his. Her head tilted, asking the question on its own, no words necessary.</p><p>“I…” he trailed off, swallowing thickly as his mouth had suddenly become devoid of saliva.</p><p>“We don’t have to do anything, you know. We can just go watch TV until…” she trailed off. “What <em>is</em> happening today?”</p><p>“I’ll give Theon a call and he’ll give us a ride up to the Watch HQ.” She kicked out of bed again, fishing for the sweatpants she’d borrowed and apparently kicked down to the bottom of the bed.</p><p>“Okay, so we can just go have a lie-in on the couch, then?” she said brightly.</p><p>“No, I…” Fuck, words were not his friends this morning. They never were when it came to this.</p><p>Robb sighed and crossed the floor until he was standing in front of her. He tugged the sweat pants out of her hands and slid an arm around her waist. He pulled her close and kissed her. Just like last night. It was significantly mintier than before but just as wonderful as he remembered.</p><p>He swept her hair back from her face and she let her hands slide up the front of his chest, as she had the night before. Except this time, he wasn’t wearing a shirt, so the action sent tingles of electricity down his spine with every inch she moved.</p><p>Fuck, it <em>had</em> been a really long time, but it was just like riding a bicycle, wasn’t it? His hands seemed to know where to go. To press flat against the small of her back so she arched toward him.</p><p>She broke off the kiss with a gasp, grinning as she caught her breath. One hand moved along his jaw. “This is prickly…”</p><p>He blushed. “Oh right… I usually shave in the morning, I could go and--”</p><p>“No, I quite like it,” she assured him. “I like it <em>very</em> much.” Her hand moved from his jaw to the back of his head.</p><p>Her words sent a surge of arousal like a damn lightning bolt through his groin. He groaned, the sound low and seemingly originating deep in his chest. It made Marg grip his hair, rake her nails along his chest. Her pupils blown wide, she leaned up on her tiptoes and kissed him again. “Come back to bed?”</p><p>She sat on the mattress, scooting back to give him room to climb up with her, and he did. He’d follow her into the depths of the seven hells at this point. Crawling on his hands and knees through fire and brimstone and the gods knew what else.</p><p>As it stood, he only had to crawl a bit up his mattress.</p><p>He hovered over her and slid his hand up under the hem of the t-shirt. Over her outer thigh and hip, thumb catching on the lace edge of her knickers. She was so smooth, fuck…</p><p>He grunted and dipped down to capture her lips again. Robb wasn’t much of a talker. Not in bed. Had sort of been a point of contention in his other relationships. But he preferred to express himself in other ways.</p><p>His hand crept up her side and took the hem of the shirt with it, revealing her bare belly and the narrow dip of her waist just above her hips. He shifted a bit so he could look. Watch as his hand moved over her skin, watch how she reacted. She jumped when he hit a spot just under her ribs, and he smiled.</p><p>“Ticklish,” she explained.</p><p>“I am too, just not there,” he replied. Wishing like the seven hells he’d just not spoken at all. What a stupid thing to say in bed with a woman.</p><p>“I’ll find it, don’t worry,” she assured him, smiling in that way she had. The way that he’d grown to enjoy seeing. To wish he saw more. To be the cause of.</p><p>He swallowed thickly as he paused just under her breast. He could feel her chest rising and falling as he looked into her eyes. “Is this alright?” he murmured.</p><p>She nodded faintly and cut her gaze down to his hand as he pushed the shirt up and over her head. She helped him toss it aside, and shifted around, situating herself so she had her legs on either side of him and he was effectively kneeling between hers.</p><p>The arm he was using to hold himself up shook and he paused once more to shift his weight, his hand poised just beneath her breast. Breasts he hadn’t taken the time to look at because if he did, he’d be useless for just about anything else.</p><p>“Robb,” she whispered. He cast his gaze thankfully to her eyes. “Touch me, please…”</p><p>He exhaled and pressed his hand under her breast, hefting it in his hand and finally cutting his eyes down. He ran his tongue over his bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth as he gazed down at her.</p><p>Not only was he quiet in bed, he definitely wasn’t one for waxing poetic. But she was fucking gorgeous. Her pale skin was covered in gooseflesh. From the chill in the room. And the drag of his fingers.</p><p>He exhaled softly, his thumb rubbing over one of her nipples. It stiffened the more he touched it and he rocked his hips into hers.</p><p>“Are you normally this quiet?” she asked, her voice low and gravelly as he stroked his thumb over her nipple. Back and forth with a swirl at the end.</p><p>“I don’t normally speak a lot while I’m… if that’s alright?”</p><p>“More than,” she said, arching her back so she could press more fully into his hand. He rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He glanced down, swallowing thickly as he watched her thighs flex, watched the tendons roll slightly and he had to push back the desire to drop down and suck a mark there.</p><p>“You sure?”</p><p>“Just kiss me, Robb. I’ve no qualms about you being quiet. Just… don’t leave me hanging, okay?”</p><p>“Oh, I won’t…” he murmured, dipping back down to kiss her. He tilted his head and angled his kisses down her jaw, sucking on the soft skin of her throat as he moved down her chest, over her collarbone and down further still.</p><p>When he reached her breasts, he sucked a nipple into his mouth, sucking softly before flicking it rapidly with his tongue.</p><p>“Oh gods,” she murmured.</p><p>He doubled down, circling the peak with the tip of his tongue. Margaery arched her back up and brought her hand down on the back of his head.</p><p>“I like that, please don’t stop,” she pleaded.</p><p>He shifted so he could suck her other nipple into his mouth, his hand coming back to tease the one he’d just left. To flick and circle and rub until she was breathing heavily, her hips steadily rocking against him, although he was down a bit lower now, so she wasn’t pressing right where he so desperately wanted. But she had bent her knee a bit, bringing her thigh up between his legs. He rutted against it every time she moaned.</p><p>Her fingers massaged the back of his head, combing through his curls and holding him fast in place. As if he’d ever leave when she liked it so much.</p><p>“Gods, Robb, I want you,” she murmured, tugging on his hair. He liked that sensation, he found, releasing her with a pop, he looked up into her eyes.</p><p>He was breathing hard, straining to keep her hands tugging in his hair because it felt so good. A counter to the heavy ache between his legs.</p><p>Margaery’s eyes were so dark as she gazed at him, chest heaving. “You are so gorgeous,” she murmured.</p><p>He smiled and she tightened her hand in his hair. “I love what you’re doing, but can we…” she trailed off, licking her lips before continuing. “Can we…” Robb felt her started to tug him back up where he’d been. And gods help him, he was going.</p><p>He’d had plans. Drive her crazy little by little until he could peel off her panties and tuck his head between her legs. But she was asking so nicely. He rolled his hips and she moaned, her hands loosening in his hair.</p><p>“Gods, Robb, I’ll let you do whatever you want if I can just have you inside me now,” she pleaded, biting down on her bottom lip. She tugged his hand that he had on her breast and brought it down to her sex. He cupped her through her panties and could tell she was soaked before he’d even properly touched her.</p><p>“Can’t really argue with that,’ he said, and she gripped his wrist and held him in place, her hips rocked shallowly.</p><p>Fuck, he wanted her too.</p><p>“Do you have something?” she asked.</p><p>“I do,” he said automatically, and then he had to stop and think. Did he?</p><p>He did.</p><p>He absolutely did. Theon had been giving him a condom every Friday night for the past year in the hopes that he’d go out and use them. He hadn’t. He’d simply tossed them… into his sock drawer, some of them. And more recently, he just tossed them on the top shelf of his linen closet. He’d heard somewhere that you couldn’t keep them in the bathroom because of the humidity.</p><p>“I do,” he repeated, rising up on his knees and grudgingly removing his hand from her. Fuck, she was so warm.</p><p>And wet.</p><p>And she wanted him.</p><p>“Won’t be but a mo’,” he promised, pushing to his feet and crossing the floor with purpose.</p><p>He opened his top sock drawer and was elated when he saw the small pile of foil squares to one side. The elation went away, however, when he realized that they were all flavoured or glow-in-the-dark.</p><p>“Something wrong?” Marg asked, pushing up on her elbows.</p><p>“No, no, I just… I didn’t buy these, my friend gave them to me… he gives me one every Friday… has for about a year now. Unfortunately, lots of them are novelties like grape flavoured or…”</p><p>“Or?” she asked.</p><p>“Or glow-in-the-dark.”</p><p>“Oh,” she huffed out a soft laugh. “Just wear one of those. I’ll avert my eyes.”</p><p>Robb smiled and quickly opened the door to go out into the hall. “No, I… I don’t think I could fuck you with a straight face if I looked down and saw glo-pink.’</p><p>She giggled and he ducked out and opened the linen closet door, reaching up onto the top shelf and feeling around. “Should I start without you?” she called.</p><p>“No, no, I’ll be right there,” he said, reaching around until he swept quite a few foil squares down on his head. He found a normal looking one. Just a regular gold Kingsguard, it looked like.</p><p>He turned it over to check the expiration and his elation returned when he realized it wasn’t for another year.</p><p>“Found one!” he said triumphantly.</p><p>She raised both hands in the air to share in his victory, and he grinned as he climbed back onto the bed.</p><p>“Not so fast,” she teased, pointing down at his crotch. “We have a dress code on this bed. And you’re overdressed as of three minutes ago.”</p><p>He tossed the condom up towards the head of the bed and reached for the drawstring on his pyjama pants. He pushed them down and off, going one step further to push down his jockeys as well, kicking the lot down onto the floor and crawling back up between her legs.</p><p>She brought both legs around his waist and draped her arms over his shoulders. “That’s more like it. Even though, I didn’t get a good look, do I get one?”</p><p>Robb sat back on his heels and Marg dropped her legs to the side. She shifted and settled on her knees as well, arching an eyebrow as she ran her hand up his thigh and wrapped it around his cock. He looked down to watch her hand as she slowly moved it up and down the length of him.</p><p>Her hand was hot and it felt so good.</p><p>“Fuck,” he swore, and she leaned over to kiss him, slowly releasing him, she reached for her waist and pushed her knickers down over her hips.</p><p>Robb could have sworn his heart stuttered. And he wanted more than ever to push her back on the bed and bury his face between her legs, but she’d said she wanted him inside her, right?</p><p>She tossed her knickers aside and reached for the condom, laying back after she had it and parting her thighs. “C’mere,” she said, reaching for him as he moved closer to take the condom from her hand and tear it open.</p><p>He rolled it up over his cock, shivering a little when he got it on and pumped his fist a few times. Robb fumbled as he moved forward, muscle memory was apparently not enough to remember the exact order of how to do this without collapsing on top of the other person.</p><p>“Fuck, sorry…” he mumbled.</p><p>“You’re fine,” Margaery said, her hands sliding over his shoulders. “Stop, kiss me.”</p><p>He did, leaning down and pressing his lips to hers. She shifted beneath him, and reached for the hand he had wrapped around his cock, guiding him closer until he could feel her heat start to envelop him.</p><p>“Margaery,” he breathed, letting his hand drop to the bed as she wrapped her legs around his waist once more.</p><p>Her eyes fluttered closed as he pushed inside, heat enveloping him as his hips touched hers and he could drop his other hand.</p><p>It felt fucking amazing, as he brought his hips back and pushed forward again, the soft sounds that escaped her lips made his skin tingle.</p><p>She hummed, rolling her hips up to meet his thrusts. His bed squeaked, and he dropped his chin and sped up a bit until he found a rhythm that seemed to make her toes curl. Make his name tumble out of her mouth over and over again in time with his hips.</p><p>Unfortunately, the rhythm she liked and the one he liked were one and the same. And he’d been desperate for her to begin with. All the teasing he’d done only served to bring him closer.</p><p>“I’m gonna…” he said, starting to slow down.</p><p>“Robb, please, you feel so good…”</p><p>He stopped abruptly, pulling out of her, and ignoring her sounds of frustration as he pushed himself further down the bed and pressed his face between her spread thighs.</p><p>Spreading her open with his thumbs, he latched onto her clit and fluttered his tongue experimentally. She gasped and he felt her hand clasp the back of his head again, tugging his curls to pull him up a bit. Just a bit. And hold him there.</p><p>Margaery’s moans were just sounds, no words at all as she held him in place and he worried her clit with his tongue, swirling and flicking before sucking it between his lips, laving it with his tongue before releasing it. She was crushing his head with her thighs and whimpering, babbling his name as he released and sucked it back in.</p><p>“Gods, there,” she practically sobbed, holding him fast in position as he doubled his efforts and even brought his fingers up to press inside her. She gasped, high and shrill as she planted her feet on the bed on either side of his shoulders. He fluttered his tongue against her clit until he felt her start to tense. Start to moan even louder. His name, over and over again, like a mantra.</p><p>She was wet. Soaking his fingers while he slid them in and out. Fuck, she felt good. So good.</p><p>Her body quivered around them, but he kept going, pumping them in and out and pressing against that spot that made her toes curl. He took his mouth off her, but it didn’t seem to matter, she was coming fast and squeezing around his fingers. He slowed down as her walls stopped quivering and brought his mouth back into the mix.</p><p>She looked sensitive, so he concentrated on the area between her clit and her opening. He went back up to the tiny nub every so often and when she came again, he practically grinned.</p><p>He slipped his fingers out as he moved back up from between her spread thighs, stretching his aching back and neck. He licked his lips before wiping his face, smiling a bit as she reached for him, pulling him close, kissing his lips even though he was sure he smelled and tasted like her.</p><p>“You didn’t have to do that,” she crooned, raking her fingers through his hair.</p><p>“Absolutely did,” he countered. “Don’t think I could have gone without for much longer.” He smiled a little as she kissed him once more. “Besides, it was fun.”</p><p>“No, let me show you what’s fun, Robb Stark…” she pushed him and he went over, lying on his back as she pulled herself up to straddle him.</p><p>“Margaery,” he murmured reverently, his hands smoothing up her thighs as she centered herself over his still very stiff cock and sank down.</p><p>He moaned. It wasn’t a sound he made very often, but he couldn’t help it.</p><p>Fuck, it was so good. So fucking good.</p><p>He wasn’t going to last.</p><p>Not with Marg sitting astride him, rolling her hips as she stretched her arms up and pushed all her hair out of the way. Her breasts bounced when she started to move, and all he could do was place his hands on her narrow waist and let her go.</p><p>She brought her hands up to cup her breasts, thumbs rolling over her nipples as his hungry eyes ate her up. Every inch of her was beautiful, and he was nothing short of mesmerised by the way she looked while riding him.</p><p>“Gods,” he spat, gripping her hips and bucking up into her as he felt the heaviness burst from his body, beginning at the base of his spine and flowing outward. He bit down hard on his lip and felt the slapping of their skin rather than heard it. He couldn’t hear much over the rush of his own blood in his ears.</p><p>He laid back on the bed, his hands loosening on her waist, but still remaining where they were. He stroked her skin with his thumb, grinning when she started giggling and clutching at his hands.</p><p>“Stop it, you bloody troll,” she squealed. Lifting up to disengage from his hands, but as she went over, he turned with her, finding her lips and kissing her.</p><p>“Am I really a troll?” he asked, wrapping his arms around her and resting his head against her belly.</p><p>“No, I suppose not, but you really should stop tickling me.”</p><p>“I won’t do anything you don’t like, Marg,” he whispered and was rewarded with her hands back in his hair once more.</p><p>She exhaled deeply and he felt his eyes fluttering closed as she scratched her fingernails against his scalp.</p><p>It was a perfect moment punctuated by Margaery’s stomach growling loudly.</p><p>“Sorry,” she said, working her hand between Robb’s head and her belly. He lifted up so he could gaze at her.</p><p>“No, I’m sorry. What sort of host am I to not feed you properly?”</p><p>“The kind who stays between my legs long enough to give me two orgasms,” she said.</p><p>“See, I even ate first,” he teased, grinning as she playfully swatted his shoulder. “Come on, love, I’ll cook something.”</p><p>“You cook?” she asked.</p><p>“I make a very good fry-up, I’m told.”</p><p>“That sounds perfect.”</p><p>“C’mon. Hop in the shower with me and I’ll be quick and you can just take your time, and by the time you’re finished, I’ll have finished cooking, alright?”</p><p>True to his word, they headed to the shower and he only faffed about a tiny bit, watching the water as it dripped down between her shoulder blades, across a rose tattoo he hadn’t seen yet that ran along her spine, and over her arse that he couldn’t resist squeezing while she got her hair wet.</p><p>“Hey, you promised food,” she teased, and he kissed her lips before ducking under the water himself. He washed quickly, while she dragged her fingertips through the soap suds as they dripped down his stomach. It proved to be rather distracting.</p><p>He kissed her again as her fingers danced over his softening cock. “Hey now, thought you were hungry.”</p><p>“Fine, but after I eat?” she asked. “You could have me for dessert?”</p><p>The thought sent blood rushing to his groin, and he had to step out of the shower to go start her fry up.</p><p>He dressed in pyjamas and a t-shirt. Because frying bacon sans shirt was not as fun as it sounded, and it didn’t even sound fun.</p><p>She came out around the time he’d finished up the beans and was about to start on the eggs and toast.</p><p>“How do you take your eggs?” he asked.</p><p>“Over easy,” she replied, taking a seat at the table. Wearing his sweatpants and t-shirt again, letting her toes drag on the floor as her hair dried slightly wavy against the shirt.</p><p>As it turned out, she’d worked up quite the appetite, and he struggled to keep up with her.</p><p>Just as he was carrying both the plates out to the kitchen for a rinse, her phone rang. He hadn’t even noticed that she’d brought it along, but apparently, it was tucked into one of her trouser pockets. He turned off the water so he could hear what she was saying, but she was already saying goodbye.</p><p>Robb wiped off his wet hands on a towel and went to join her in the living room. “Everything alright?”</p><p>She sighed and nodded. “Yeah, but they need us ‘at our earliest convenience’ at the Watch’s Headquarters.”</p><p>“Well, they do need to figure out who blew up your fridge last night,” Robb reminded her.</p><p>She groaned and visibly deflated. “I’d rather not think about that.”</p><p>He reached over to take her hand. “I know, but… the sooner they catch this person, the sooner you'll be safe, yeah?”</p><p>“Yeah,” she agreed, rising to her feet and carrying her clothes to the loo. “I’ll be right back,” she said, disappearing behind the closed door.</p><p>He went back into the bedroom to change clothes himself before ringing Theon.</p><p>“Yeah?” his friend answered, sounding very much as if Robb had just woken him up.</p><p>“Hey…” Robb began. “I need a favour.”</p><p>“As long as it doesn’t involve me getting out of this bed, then sure.”</p><p>Robb sucked his teeth and Theon groaned.</p><p>“Fine, what do you need?”</p><p>“A ride up to Watch HQ,” he said.</p><p>“What for?” Robb could practically hear the sneer in his friend’s voice.</p><p>“You know last night, right?”</p><p>“Yeah, Sansa was hysterical for approximately twenty minutes between the time she heard about it and the time you texted to let her know you were okay. You are, right? Okay? You’re not in any trouble?”</p><p>“No, no… Marg just-- Margaery stayed here last night and--”</p><p>“I’m sorry…” Theon interrupted and Robb sighed. “Sorry to stop you but you said she stayed <em>there</em> last night?”</p><p>“Yeah, I’m no longer her bodyguard and she needed a place to stay since hers was a bit on fire. So she slept here and nothing happened last night.”</p><p>“Mmkay…” Theon said, not sounding convinced at all, but Robb hadn’t lied. Not exactly.</p><p>Nothing <em>had</em> happened last night. That kiss happened well after midnight and everything else was later this morning.</p><p>“Anyway, my car’s in evidence, her car’s in evidence, and she needs to go up to Watch HQ for more interviews.”</p><p>“Gotcha. Let me just grab a coffee and I’ll be right over.”</p><p>“Thanks, mate.”</p><p>“Anytime.”</p><p>“Hey, before you go… is Sansa there?”</p><p>“Yeah, she’s here.”</p><p>“She okay?”</p><p>“She’s asleep now. But you know how much she worries about the lot of you.”</p><p>“The lot of us?”</p><p>“Yeah. You. Arya. Not so much Bran and Rickon, but they still live at home, so I mean.”</p><p>“Tell her I’ll try and call more quickly next time, kay?”</p><p>“Kay.”</p><p>He ended the call and went out into the living room again to find Margaery seated on the sofa, her knees bouncing again.</p><p>So she was back to being nervous again.</p><p>Robb slid in beside her and wrapped an arm around her waist, tugging her flush against his side so she could lean her head on his shoulder. Her legs stopped bouncing as she turned to press her lips against his neck.</p><p>He closed his eyes to savour the moment before speaking. “Just got off the phone with Theon. He’ll be here in a bit to take us up to Watch HQ.”</p><p>“How long?” she asked.</p><p>“How long will it take or how long will Theon take?”</p><p>“Both.”</p><p>“No idea to the first and about twenty minutes to the second,” he answered.</p><p>She nodded and curled in closer beside him. “So let’s just sit here and relax, for now, okay?”</p><p>“Sounds good,” Robb said, tilting his head over to rest atop hers.</p><p>Her hand found his, fingers lacing tightly.</p><p>“Is Theon the one dating your sister? Or sleeping with her? Or something?”</p><p>Robb chuckled. “Yeah. They’re… they’re something alright.”</p><p>He felt her huff out a sound that was likely laughter. “How’s that work?”</p><p>“I don’t really know. Sansa won’t talk to me about it, and Theon…” He shook his head. “I can’t ever tell if he’s being serious. And that’s likely the problem, you know?”</p><p>“Hmm,” she hummed in reply. “I like to be straight forward.”</p><p>“That’s me as well,” he began, realizing belatedly where he’d willingly taken them. “And uh… I hope you know that I don’t want this to be a one-off.”</p><p>“Me either,” she said, exhaling. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind if that’s all you wanted, but I’m right chuffed that you want more than that.”</p><p>She snuggled a bit closer then, and there they sat, watching the minutes tick past on the clock until Robb’s phone buzzed.</p><p>“That’ll be Theon.”</p><p>Margaery nodded tightly and rose. Robb kept her hand in his and tugged her close into his embrace. His lips found hers and she sighed into the kiss.</p><p>“I’ll be right there with you the whole time, okay?”</p><p>“Can you do that?” she asked, looking a bit worried again.</p><p>He shrugged. “I dunno, but I’ll sure as fuck try.”</p><p>She smiled and dropped his hand to slide on her shoes. His own went on easily as well and they made their way down to the car park where Theon was waiting.</p><p>Robb went round to open the passenger side door for her.</p><p>“Took you long enough,” Theon griped for Robb’s benefit, before greeting Marg with a smooth smile. “Hullo there, love, I’m sure it wasn’t your fault.”</p><p>Margaery smiled sweetly and sat down in the passenger seat. “I’m Margaery,” she said, holding out her hand.</p><p>“Sorry,” Robb fumbled with the back door, having to reach around to unlock the thing before it would fucking open. “Sorry, Marg, this is Theon. Theon, Margaery Tyrell.”</p><p>She smiled brightly and Theon took her hand, giving her one of his crooked smiles while studying her face for a long moment. Not awkwardly long, but it still made Robb’s stomach clench a bit.</p><p>If Theon wasn’t his best friend, he might have been a bit more worried. With his smooth charm making up for his lack of classic good looks, he was quite a force to be reckoned with. When it came to someone he fancied.</p><p>Which was probably why Sansa was still… doing whatever she was doing with him. He could be downright charming when he tried.</p><p>“You’ve got that uh… YouTube channel, right?” Theon asked, still holding her hand.</p><p>Margaery smiled. “I do.”</p><p>Theon let go of her hand, grinning a bit more widely, as if pleased with himself. “Thought so. My girlfriend watches it a lot. Made a lot of those uh… macrame plant holders?”</p><p>Marg nodded, “Yeah, that’s a popular video.”</p><p>“All her plants died, but I mean… the pots look good, don’t they?” He was pulling out of the car park then, checking left and right before doing so. “You want music?” he asked Marg.</p><p>“No, I’m fine, thanks…”</p><p>Theon looked back in the rearview mirror to catch Robb’s gaze before winking. “You alright, Stark?”</p><p>“Holding up,” he said. “So you’ve a girlfriend now? Do I know her?”</p><p>“Fuck, Robb,” Theon protested. “You know I bloody well do.”</p><p>Marg covered her mouth to stifle a giggle at that.</p><p>“Does Sansa know she’s your girlfriend?”</p><p>“She knows I call her that, not sure if she calls me her boyfriend.”</p><p>“That doesn’t bother you?” Marg asked.</p><p>Theon smirked briefly, still staring out the front windshield. “Nah. I’m the only bloke she’s seeing. That’s all I need.”</p><p>“Maybe if you were a bit more straightforward with her. As to your expectations…” Marg offered. “If you don’t mind my saying so, as an outsider looking in.”</p><p>Theon shifted in his seat uncomfortably, all traces of cockiness melting down the collar of his shirt. “So um, interview with the Watch, huh?”</p><p>Margaery mouthed ‘Oh’ before answering. “Yeah, interview with the Watch.”</p><p>“Any leads?” Theon asked, directing the question to Robb as well.</p><p>“If there are any, I don’t know,” Robb replied. “I’d wager it’s her stalker, though.”</p><p>“You have a stalker?” Theon asked. “Have you seen them?”</p><p>“Not to my knowledge,” Margaery said. “It’s mostly been online, but they’ve definitely seen me in person.”</p><p>“Fucking creepy,” Theon muttered. “Hopefully they find ‘em. I’m sure they’ve got a spot saved at the Wall for them.”</p><p>“One can only hope,” Margaery trailed off.</p><p>They pulled up to the Watch’s Headquarters and Theon dropped them off at the door. “Want me to stick around?” he asked.</p><p>“I don’t want to keep you if Sansa’s back at yours,” Robb said.</p><p>“Give me a call when you’re finished, yeah?” Theon held out his fist and Robb couldn’t help but smile as he bumped it with his before closing the door so his friend could drive away.</p><p>“I like him,” Margaery said as they made their way into the building. “He’s got no idea what he’s doing with your sister, but I like him anyway.”</p><p>Robb smiled. “The things Theon Greyjoy’s got no idea about could fill a fucking book.”</p><p>Margaery laughed easily and he reached across her body to open the door.</p><p>His stomach felt queasy the second they stepped into the lobby. Two of the members of the Watch from the night before cornered them and split them up before he could even protest, whisking Margaery off to one end of the hallway while he was led in the other direction.</p><p>Robb skidded to a halt, which threw his escort for a loop.</p><p>“Right this way, ser,” the officer repeated, sounding a bit more annoyed.</p><p>“I’d like to stay with Margaery,” Robb insisted.</p><p>“We have to get both of your statements apart from each other.”</p><p>“Why?” Robb asked. “She’s a victim, I promised her I’d remain with her.”</p><p>“This is customary, Ser.”</p><p>“You got our statements last night.”</p><p>“New information has surfaced.”</p><p>Robb turned back down the hall to watch where they’d taken Marg. He couldn’t see them anymore, so he assumed they’d taken her into one of the rooms.</p><p>“Afterward--” he began.</p><p>“Afterward, you’ll be reunited, yes ser.”</p><p>“Okay,” he nodded, allowing his escort to begin walking again.</p><p>He was led into a tiny room. Interrogation room, from the looks of it. His stomach was still rolling with his nerves, so he had to take a few deep breaths before taking a seat.</p><p>“Would you like some water?” the other man asked.</p><p>“No,” Robb shook his head. “No, I’m fine, thank you.”</p><p>He left the room, and Robb was alone. He glanced around the grey room, taking in the monochrome walls and floor. Table and chairs. The one-way mirror on the opposite wall.</p><p>It was odd that they’d brought him in here, wasn’t it? If they were just taking his statement, wouldn’t he be somewhere else? Somewhere less imposing?</p><p>He didn’t have time to linger on that question for long because the door opened and two different officers strolled inside. Their black uniforms almost blended into the room, but the stark silver of their badges glinted brightly.</p><p>Robb sniffed and folded his hands, waiting for them to sit down and begin talking.</p><p>The shorter one began before they’d even come into his range of vision.</p><p>“Good morning, Mr. Stark. Did you sleep well?”</p><p>“Aye,” he replied.</p><p>“Good to hear,” the man said in a voice that sounded very bored. “I’m Darren Cale. This is my partner, Orme.”</p><p>“Nice to meet you, gentlemen,” Robb said in greeting. He hadn’t caught whether Orme was the man’s first name or last name. He found it didn’t matter, for Cale was the one doing all the talking.</p><p>“Can you please go over your actions yesterday, Mr. Stark?”</p><p>He had done already, but he assumed it was just to see if he remembered anything else.</p><p>“I went over to Ms. Tyrell’s rental around midmorning, I’d say around half-past ten. We remained in the rented domicile until it was well past lunchtime. From there, we visited Giantsbane’s for lunch and went to the glass botanical gardens--”</p><p>“Is it usually part of your job description to take your clients sightseeing, Mr. Stark?”</p><p>Remaining calm and collected, Robb didn’t miss a beat. “It’s part of my job description to accompany my clients wherever they go. And since Ms. Tyrell went to Giantsbane’s and to the botanical gardens, I went as well.”</p><p>“Alright, and after that?”</p><p>“To a pub in the town square.”</p><p>“Which pub?”</p><p>“The Hearth,” he supplied.</p><p>“And you went there to meet with your sister, according to my notes.”</p><p>“Yes. Arya Stark,” he confirmed.</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“She’s a P.I, as you know.” He looked between the two men and saw a brief flicker of annoyance. Arya tended to rub the Watch the wrong way. Mostly because she had an uncanny ability for solving cases before they could. “Through Ms. Tyrell, her publishing company has hired Arya for her services.”</p><p>“Based on your recommendation, yes?”</p><p>“Correct,” Robb answered warily. “She’s one of the best.”</p><p>“We <em>know</em>,” Cale stated. “Why were her services needed by Ms. Tyrell?”</p><p>“She has a cyberstalker. She wished to use Arya to ascertain the identity of her stalker so she could report it to the proper authorities.”</p><p>“Fine, where did you go after that?”</p><p>“I took Margaery home. We had a short conversation in the car, then I went inside to inspect the house for anything amiss.” Robb swallowed thickly because this was the part that he didn’t like. That he hadn’t noticed anything wrong with her refrigerator.</p><p>“And you saw nothing wrong?”</p><p>“Correct.”</p><p>“And then you opened the fridge, placed the leftovers, and left the house, upon which, the bomb detonated.”</p><p>“Correct.”</p><p>“Sort of lucky for you that it didn’t go off when you opened the door. You might have been killed.”</p><p>“Too right. I was lucky,” Robb said. “You said you had new information? What was it?”</p><p>Orme chose that moment to speak. “Were you aware that there was a security system hooked up at the rental where Ms. Tyrell was staying?”</p><p>“Yes, I was.”</p><p>“Were you aware that it wasn’t armed when the two of you left?”</p><p>“I wasn’t. But it wouldn’t have made a difference. Any criminal worth his salt would have just disconnected the phone line. It was useless against a tech-savvy criminal.”</p><p>Orme’s eyebrows rose slightly. “I’ll say. How uh, <em>tech-savvy </em>would you say you are, ser?”</p><p>Robb frowned, panic blooming in his stomach. “Come again?”</p><p>“You heard me. How tech-savvy are you?”</p><p>“Am I under suspicion?” Robb asked, not touching that question and simply sliding it back unanswered.</p><p>“Answer my question first, Mr. Stark.”</p><p>“No, you have to tell me if I’m under suspicion. Answer me first and I’ll answer you accordingly.”</p><p>Cale interrupted. “Any special reason you took this assignment? When the Region Representative campaign convention was in town?”</p><p>“I took this assignment because it was <em>assigned</em> to me, hence my calling it an <em>assignment.</em> I had no choice,” Robb seethed. “Call my Captain, Jorah Mormont. He’ll tell you.”</p><p>“Oh, we’ll see him.”</p><p>Annoyed, Robb snapped his mouth shut. “I refuse to answer any more questions until I can seek counsel.”</p><p>“Seeking counsel already, eh? I didn’t even get to talk about the explosive device. How it was either so poorly built or so ingeniously built as to detonate after you’d safely cleared the blast zone?”</p><p>“Counsel. Please,” Robb replied, staring down at his hands and refusing to engage them again until they both rose and left the room</p><p>The table under him shook and it took him a few seconds to realise that it was due to his bouncing legs. He placed both his hands on his knees, waiting until they called his counsel. He had no reason to feel nervous. He had nothing to hide. Why in the seven hells they suspected <em>him</em> when there was clear evidence that this was someone who lived nearer to Marg than he did was beyond his comprehension.</p><p>He supposed if he could look at it objectively, he’d have to admit that some things superficially lined up. But he couldn’t look at it objectively when he wanted to punch someone.</p><p>Gods, he hoped they weren’t putting these ideas in Margaery’s head. <em>He</em> knew he hadn’t done it. She had to know too, right?</p><p>He swallowed thickly and attempted to calm his rapidly beating heart into cool and calm submission. No punching anyone or anything, just deep cleansing breaths until his counsel got here.</p><p>It didn’t work, but an attempt was made.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Okay, here it is!</p><p>Now, I've got three POV's here in this last chapter. And some very hand-wavy internet things that if you all could just squint at and move on, it would be so swell.  ;)</p><p>I hope you like this conclusion, and I'm going to go ahead and post the epilogue as well, so thank you ALL for your lovely comments!  I had a great time writing these two! &lt;3</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>HUGE thank you to treaddelicately, who betaed this for me and put up with all my nonsense.  She's amazing and the best beta I could ask for.  She makes me a better writer. &lt;3 &lt;3 &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>ARYA</strong>
</p><hr/><p>When her phone rang, she knew who it was instinctively. After what had happened last night, she figured she’d be hearing from Margaery first thing in the morning.</p><p>Arya stifled another yawn and picked up her coffee cup to take a sip, only to realize for the fourth time that morning, that it was still empty. Apparently she couldn’t successfully pull an all-nighter anymore.</p><p>“Fuuuuuck,” she groaned. She’d started to get up to refill it three times and gotten sidetracked on yet another task in the neverending list she’d made for herself. The top of which was to find this bad-explosive-making motherfucker because it fucking pissed her off that she hadn’t pegged him for a bomber.</p><p>Yes, it was a ‘him’. She was generalizing, but he made a fucking bomb, okay? Not to sound like a misandrist, but it was a dude. Cis-dude for ninety-nine-percent sure.</p><p>“Want me to refill that?” Gendry asked, holding his hand out. “Answer your fucking phone, sleepy-head.”</p><p>She handed the mug off and picked up the phone, sliding her thumb on the screen and closing her eyes before answering. “Hello?”</p><p>“Oh, my gods, Arya,” Margaery began, sounding frantic and out of breath.</p><p>Arya’s eyes snapped open. “What happened? Something else? Another explosive?” Her heart sank low in her chest. “Is Robb okay?”</p><p>“He’s fine. I’m fine. No more explosives. Sorry, I should have led with that, but I’m so angry I could cry right now and you have to get up here.”</p><p>“Where’s here?” she asked.</p><p>“The Watch HQ. They think Robb did it.”</p><p>“They think Robb did what, exactly?” Arya asked as Gendry slid her mug back toward her and meandered over to the sink to wash up the coffee pot.</p><p>Normally, she’d be distracted by him doing domestic things while shirtless, but it had been a night. And a morning. Shirtless Gendry would have to wait.</p><p>And that’s when Marg stopped talking to her and started snarking off to someone else. “You’d have to be a moron to think he did it, but it’s really no great surprise considering.” Her voice was clear once more. “Arya, does your family have legal counsel?”</p><p>Her head was spinning. Legal counsel? Morons in the Watch? Okay, that last part was believable. But how on the planet could they think that Robb had <em>anything</em> to do with this? That couldn’t be right.</p><p>“Marg, start again, go slower, I’ve been up all night, I’m exhausted and I’m not sure I’m hearing you correctly,” Arya breathed, her head beginning to pound.</p><p>“The Watch thinks it’s Robb. They think Robb’s the one who set off the bomb. They’re interrogating him. He needs legal counsel. I don’t think he’d do anything to incriminate himself, but it couldn’t hurt to have his counsel here, right?”</p><p>“Why--why--<em>why</em> do they think that?” Her heart was racing and she was starting to sound like Sansa. Her sister spoke a dialect of Anxiety seldom matched, but it was evidently a shared trait.</p><p>“Because everything seems to line up… but it’s only superficial and it doesn’t explain my stalker before now.”</p><p>“What lines up? Talk me through it.”</p><p>“Such as how he was the one <em>inside</em> the house when the bomb went off, how he told me my security system was useless, therefore I never armed it... how he took me to the Glass Botanical Gardens yesterday… I’m not even certain how that fits, but the idiot questioning me seemed to think he was onto something. They’re just twisting the facts to fit their theory and they don’t! Arya, they don’t!”</p><p>“I know, I know…” Arya’s heart was thudding heavy in her chest. “Listen. I need to think. I need to think. I am not any closer to figuring out who KLsson is, but for now I can give you the contact information for our family’s legal counsel. His name is Petyr Baelish and he’s a scuzzball, but he’s the best. I’ll send you the number when I end the call, okay? I’ll call back once I know something.”</p><p>“Alright,” Margaery sounded small all of the sudden. “Alright, I can do that.”</p><p>“Do you need someone to come to pick you up?” Arya asked. “I can call Theon.”</p><p>“No, no… I don’t know anyone else here, it’d be awkward. I’d rather stay here to see if they’ll let me talk to Robb.”</p><p>“Okay, that’s fine. Again, I’ll send you that number for Baelish. And try to remain calm okay? Robb didn’t do this. Things will start to look odd and they’ll have to let him go.”</p><p>“Okay,” Marg echoed. “Thank you, Arya.”</p><p>“Hey, he’s my brother, Marg. I want him cleared as much as you do. And I like <em>you</em>. I want to find this asshole so he can get what’s coming to him.”</p><p>“Call me soon,” she replied, and Arya agreed, ending the call and sighing heavily. She quickly sent off Petyr Baelish’s contact information to Margaery, with the express instructions to lead with “this is for Robb Stark.”</p><p>Once she’d done that, she let the phone fall and stretched her arms above her head, groaning at the stiffness in her back. When she turned to Gendry, he was already caught up.</p><p>“No need to fill me in, just tell me what you need,” he said, leaning back against the counter.</p><p>“Someone to rubber duck with,” she pleaded, before taking another long swig of black coffee.</p><p>“Last time we tried that, we ended up in bed,” he reminded her.</p><p>“Yeah, but this is Robb.”</p><p>“Exactly. That’s why you need to be on top of your game.”</p><p>She sighed heavily. “You’re right. Your sweet ass is a distraction.”</p><p>He smirked and bent to kiss her forehead. “You could always try Sansa?”</p><p>Returning his smirk, Arya jumped to her feet and pocketed her phone. “You are so smart.”</p><p>Gendry shrugged and returned her goodbye kiss as she ran out the door. “So they tell me!”</p><p>Sansa was over at Theon’s, and Arya knew she should probably call ahead, but she’d barged in at Theon’s so many times now, he’d practically given her a spare key. At least, he told her where he hid it, so that was as good as an open invitation, right?</p><p>All the information she had was on her phone. And it was all the information she was going to get. She had to reason something out of it. The answers were here. She just had to see them.</p><p>Rubber ducking was the best way to do that.</p><p>Sansa was her go-to rubber duck, but she’d never tried it with Theon around. But between the two of them, they made a whole brain cell, right? Maybe this could work.</p><p>She grabbed her phone and keys and set off.</p><p>It took her about ten minutes to drive over to Theon’s apartment. He lived in the same complex as Robb. And she was on Robb’s shortlist, so she got waved right in at the gate. Instead of turning left as soon as she entered the car park, she hung right and circled around to Theon’s building.</p><p>She tried knocking first, rapping impatiently on the door and hoping like hell they weren’t in the middle of fucking or something. Because it would technically be her fault for barging in on that and Arya hated having to admit fault in any situation.</p><p>Luckily, Sansa came to unlock the door after the second knock, so she didn’t have to go find Theon’s spare key where he kept it under his passenger wheel well. Her red hair was mussed and she had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. But she was dressed. Just exhausted-looking. Arya figured she probably looked the same.</p><p>They’d both gotten notified about the explosion. And they’d both had to wait a stupid long time for Robb to call them to tell them he was fine. She really hoped Sansa wouldn’t be too upset about the turn of events.</p><p>“Tired or something?” Arya teased half-heartedly.</p><p>“Something,” Sansa smirked, going to flop down on the sofa. “I got no sleep last night, I was too worried about Robb. What’re you doing here?”</p><p>Arya ignored that question and answered with one of her own. “Theon here?”</p><p>“Yeah, he’s in the shower. He’ll be out in a mo’,” her sister replied, leaning back on the sofa and closing her eyes. “Why are you here, Arya?”</p><p>“I need you to rubber duck for me.”</p><p>“Gendry working?” Sansa laughed.</p><p>“No, I actually needed to get it done. You know he doesn’t let me get any work done.”</p><p>“Last I checked, it was you who couldn’t keep your hands to yourself.”</p><p>“Never said it wasn’t. How am I supposed to behave myself when he’s there?” Arya arched an eyebrow and Sansa chuckled.</p><p>“I mean, I know you do it, but that doesn’t mean all of us don’t go weak at the sight of our boyfriends.”</p><p>“Theon’s not my boyfriend,” Sansa replied, sounding very, very tired.</p><p>“Whatever, I don’t care. Can you rubber duck with me or not?”</p><p>“Sure. What’s up?”</p><p>Arya felt cold for a second when she realized that she’d now have to clue Sansa in on what was happening with Robb first before she went any further.</p><p>“Okay so have you heard from Robb? Or has Theon?” she began.</p><p>“Theon drove him to the headquarters this morning. Why?”</p><p><em>Okay, so she doesn’t know.</em> “Well, Robb is the Watch’s number one suspect in this whole bombing thing.” Nothing like ripping the plaster off in one go. Plus, Arya was tired, Sansa was tired, it was easier this way.</p><p>“Fucking <em>what</em>?” Sansa spat, shoving off the blanket and rising to her feet.</p><p>“Just sit the fuck down.”</p><p>“You okay, love?” Theon called from the bathroom. The water had stopped running, but he didn’t come out into the hallway, just yelled through the crack in the door.</p><p>“Yeah, I’m fine,” Sansa called back before responding to Arya in hushed tones. “You’re telling me our brother is suspected of bombing a YouTuber’s rental? How am I supposed to calm down?”</p><p>Arya sighed. “Look, there’s nothing we can do up there, I need to figure out who the fuck’s actually done this. So rubber duck with me.”</p><p>Sansa chewed on her lip and sat down.</p><p>The bathroom door opened.</p><p>“Arya’s here,” Sansa called without turning around.</p><p>“Fuck!” Theon swore and slammed the door. “You ever hear of calling?”</p><p>“I dunno, you ever hear of not bursting into rooms completely naked??” Arya asked in reply.</p><p>“It’s my bloody flat, Arya!”</p><p>“I’m visiting my sister,” she said as if that explained anything. “Also you gave me a key.”</p><p>“I told you where mine was, in case of an emergency.”</p><p>“Well, this is an emergency.”</p><p>Theon emerged with damp hair, a towel around his shoulders and thankfully a pair of long pyjamas slung low on his hips. He flopped down beside Sansa to finish drying his hair. “What’s so urgent?” he asked.</p><p>“They think Robb did it,” Sansa said.</p><p>He froze, “What? Did what?”</p><p>“The bomb,” Arya said impatiently. “Look, I need to talk this through if we’re going to convince them otherwise, okay? I’m not here to give you the news.”</p><p>“Why do they think it’s him?” Theon asked, completely ignoring Arya’s proclamation.</p><p>“Something about her security system not being armed, and he was the last one in the house before the explosion,” she rattled off impatiently.</p><p>“Seven fucking hells,” Theon groaned, tilting his head to the side to dry out one of his ears. “What’re you doing <em>here</em>? What’s rubber-ducking?”</p><p>“It’s something programmers do,” Sansa replied. “Talk out your issues to a rubber duck. Or someone who’s not going to respond and fuck up your concentration. I’m the rubber duck, Arya’s going to talk out her evidence.”</p><p>“Can I be here?” Theon asked.</p><p>“If you can fucking be quiet,” Arya snapped.</p><p>“Touchy, touchy,” he tisked, reclining and tossing his damp towel aside.</p><p>Sansa promptly put her legs up on his lap and he draped his arms over her calves.</p><p>“Okay, we good to start?” Arya asked.</p><p>“Go on,” said Sansa.</p><p>“Okay so here’s what evidence I have… six different usernames. Four are obviously one time accounts, but the other two get used a lot more.” She swiped around on the screen until she came to her notes with all the sock puppet account names.</p><p>Sansa held out her hand wordlessly and Arya placed the phone in her hand.</p><p>“So I can’t get anything other than it’s coming from a smartphone,” Arya stated. “These are all definitely the same person, though. Or at least, they’re coming through the same device. Like, he doesn’t even use a laptop or anything. It’s all that phone. At least, everything on those accounts is. There could be others.”</p><p>“Sorry to interrupt, I know rubber ducks can’t talk but--” Sansa interrupted, her hand in the air like this was school or something.</p><p>“What?” Arya hissed.</p><p>Sansa arched her eyebrow in warning, “Do you want my help or not?”</p><p>“Depends on how much help it is.”</p><p>Sansa smirked and handed the phone back, slapping it into Arya’s outstretched hand. “That’s Joff’s old messenger screen name.” She tapped the screen to highlight the name</p><p>“What?” Arya frowned and looked at the one Sansa had highlighted. GoldenOne111.</p><p>“How do you know?”</p><p>“Because we used to ‘date’ if you can call it that. We talked mostly on messenger?” Sansa rolled her eyes. “GoldenOne because he’s a Lannister. And blonde. The three numeral ones because he wanted to accentuate how important he was.” She shrugged. “Yeah, that’s it.”</p><p>“What are the chances it’s the same one he’s using now?”</p><p>“I dunno, but that’s definitely what he used.”</p><p>“The other one’s KLsson, what do you suppose that means?”</p><p>“KLsson?” Sansa frowned and looked at the name. “I think it’s KL’s son. As in son of KL. Kings Landing. His dad’s the regional rep there. Has been for a while. He’s the most important man in the Capital, and Joffrey’s his oldest son.”</p><p>“Holy fucking shit,” Arya murmured, glancing down at the phone once more. “Holy fucking fucking shit.” It deserved two fuckings. Because this was incredible. Incredibly stupid. “Those are fucking obvious, aren’t they?”</p><p>Sansa smirked. “Joff’s the worst kind of stupid. He thinks he’s clever.”</p><p>Arya went back to the home screen. “Is Joff still at Mom and Dad’s?”</p><p>“Am I still staying here at Theon’s?” Sansa asked. “Why do you ask?”</p><p>“Because I have that program I wrote to monitor Mom and Dad’s internet usage. I wrote it last year when Dad thought the neighbors were stealing their wifi.”</p><p>“Were they?” Theon asked.</p><p>“Actually, yes,” Arya replied. “Mom and Dad’s was faster and they’d cracked their wifi password. Considering it was ‘password’, it wasn’t that hard to crack, but still. I keep the program going to make sure they don’t try it again.”</p><p>“And that shows everything that’s done using that internet connection?” Sansa asked.</p><p>“Yep. Every device too. If he used the wifi and didn’t just connect to his data plan or something.”</p><p>“God, I hope Joff’s still as stupid as he used to be.”</p><p>Arya opened the app and did a quick search for Joffrey’s phone. She found several connection dates that coincided with some of the messages Margaery had gotten. The time stamps weren’t exactly the same, but the messages happened within those same times, it would be difficult to ignore. Even the Watch couldn’t argue with this.</p><p>“Fucking got him,” she said, grinning.</p><p>She whooped while Sansa sniffed indignantly. “You mean <em>I</em> got him, wouldn’t have shit if it weren’t for me.”</p><p>“Babe, you are amazing,” Theon said, squeezing her foot once. “My girlfriend is amazing.”</p><p>“I am not your girlfriend,” she corrected him, all the while pushing her foot into his hand until he started rubbing it.</p><p>“Sure felt like it last night,” he muttered under his breath.</p><p>“Nope. Not your girlfriend. But you can’t date anyone. Especially me. Because we’re not together.”</p><p>Theon frowned, peering over at her like he was trying to divide seven million two by pi. “So wait, we’re not dating, but I can’t date anyone else, because we’re not together.”</p><p>“Correct,” Sansa replied.</p><p>“But we’re still sleeping together, right?”</p><p>“Oh yes, exclusively,” she replied.</p><p>He nodded once and Arya huffed out a sigh. “How do I have the most healthy relationship here?”</p><p>“Because you’re the only one with a relationship,” Sansa replied, while Theon massaged her feet.</p><p>Arya closed her eyes and quickly saved screenshots of all Joff’s activity at her parent’s. “I would love to get this going again, but I have to go up to HQ and get our brother out of trouble.</p><p>“Fine but once you get him off, let’s go out for drinks or something,” Theon said.</p><p>“Ooo, yes that sounds fun.”</p><p>“Figure out what we’re doing and text it to me.” Arya stood and pocketed her phone before dashing out the door. She’d call Marg on the way to the station.</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>MARGAERY</strong>
</p><hr/><p>When she hung up with Arya, her skin was prickling. Like someone was watching her. When she turned, at least three of the Night’s Watch quickly looked down at their computer screens.</p><p>Narrowing her eyes, she pocketed her phone and marched over to stand in front of the quad of desks. “Look, idiots. If he isn’t under arrest, you can let me see him.”</p><p>“This isn’t a social event, sweetheart,” one of them simpered.</p><p>“My flat was bombed last night. I haven’t had a change of clothes today. Because I’ve spent most of it here, looking at your faces instead of picking my life back up.”</p><p>“No one said you <em>must</em> stay,” another one muttered.</p><p>“You’re interrogating my friend,” she hissed. “We came together, we’re leaving together. I’m the victim. I’m telling you it’s not him.”</p><p>They fell silent and Marg sighed in exasperation. Her phone buzzed a second later and she glanced down. Petyr Baelish’s contact information.</p><p>She tapped on the phone number and rehearsed what she was to open with. “This is a call on behalf of Robb Stark. This is a call on behalf of Robb Stark.”</p><p>“Petyr Baelish’s office. This is Ros speaking, how may I help you?”</p><p>“This is a call on behalf of Robb Stark,” Margaery began.</p><p>“Robb Stark? I’ll put you through to Mr. Baelish.”</p><p>Margaery waited a surprisingly short amount of time, only to have the man on the other end breathlessly exclaim. “Catelyn?”</p><p>Her eyebrows went up in surprise. “No ser, this is Margaery Tyrell, calling on behalf of Robb Stark.”</p><p>“Oh,” he said, seeming to pull himself together. Who was Catelyn and did she want to know? “Ms. Tyrell?”</p><p>“Yes, well…” She took a deep breath and barreled forward. “Robb’s being interrogated as a suspect in a bombing that took place at my rental flat last night. He wasn’t responsible, and he needs legal counsel.”</p><p>Mr. Baelish was silent for a long moment before speaking again. “A bombing?”</p><p>“Indeed.”</p><p>“Tell Mr. Stark not to say another word, that I’ll be there shortly.”</p><p>And then he ended the call. Margaery was left blinking at her phone screen.</p><p>“Oy, reprobates,” she called into the room in front of her. “I have a message for Robb Stark, can I take it to him?”</p><p>“Not unless you’re his counsel. He lawyered up. Still sure he’s innocent, sweet cheeks?” the same cocky arsehole from before gave her a nasty smile.</p><p>“It is from his counsel, actually. Petyr Baelish wants him to shut up and wait for him to arrive.”</p><p>She certainly didn’t know Petyr Baelish, but this man surely seemed to. If his suddenly pale complexion was any indication.</p><p>“He’s already done that, but I’ll pass along the message.”</p><p>“I could, if he’s not talking to you anymore, I could go in and let him know,” she said.</p><p>“Not happening,” the officer said bluntly, before reaching for his phone for either a real or imaginary call. She supposed it didn’t matter, he’d ended their conversation.</p><p>A hand appeared on her shoulder, and she turned round suddenly. The man jumped. “Sorry, Ms. Tyrell, just thought you might want a coffee.”</p><p>She glanced down at the mug in his hand. He didn’t look like the other members of the Watch other than he was wearing their uniform. With significantly fewer accolades pinned to the front than most of the others she’d come in contact with.</p><p>“Thank you,” she said, reaching out to take the steaming mug.</p><p>“If you’ll follow me,” he said, gesturing down the same hall they’d led Robb. “There’s a waiting area where you can put cream and sugar in that if you’d like.”</p><p>“Thank you,” she repeated again, feeling a bit like a broken record. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name?”</p><p>“Tarly, ma’am.” His voice was soft and calming. “Samwell Tarly, but you can call me Sam.”</p><p>“Sam,” she echoed as they walked into the waiting area. Full of metal chairs fused to the floor and a miniature kitchen counter on one end. It had a coffee pot on it, a clear plastic container full of sugar packets, and a microwave mounted on the wall above it. “Can I see Robb?”</p><p>“Why don’t you fix your coffee and I’ll let you know what’s going on, okay?”</p><p>He seemed nice. But she was understandably wary. Of course most of the others she’d spoken with started out nice as well. But once she started demanding to see Robb, they froze up.</p><p>It was frustration incarnate.</p><p>She stirred sugar and powdered creamer into her coffee and came to sit down on the seat beside Sam.</p><p>Taking a sip of the coffee, she let the warm liquid flow down her throat before she spoke again. “Officer Tarly--”</p><p>“Sam,” he insisted.</p><p>“<em>Sam</em>. You have to understand where I’m coming from. I know this isn’t Robb. I have had a stalker. For much longer than I’ve known Robb Stark. The probability that he is my stalker and then was assigned my case is astronomically small. If you’ll just call his S.O., Captain Jorah Mormont. He’ll tell you it couldn’t be Robb.”</p><p>“Ms. Tyrell--”</p><p>“Margaery.”</p><p>He smiled. “Margaery, I do understand you. I promise I do. Everyone else does as well, but they have to pursue every avenue.”</p><p>“Every avenue?” she exclaimed. “Robb isn’t even a sidestreet!”</p><p>“That’s a clever analogy, but if there isn’t any evidence that checks out, then there won’t be anything to worry about.”</p><p>“There isn’t any evidence,” she countered. “And time is being wasted on this ‘avenue’.”</p><p>“There aren’t any other avenues,” he said, still somehow remaining annoyingly calm.</p><p>“There are!” she insisted. “I have mountains of evidence pointing in another direction. I have a cyberstalker. I hired Arya Stark to help me find out who it is.”</p><p>“And if any of that evidence checks out, Robb will be free to go. Provided it doesn’t just incriminate him further.”</p><p>“You’re all ignorant,” she groused, going to stand and realising she didn’t have anywhere to set the coffee mug, so she gave it back to Sam abruptly.</p><p>“Wait,” he said, lowering his voice.</p><p>She turned, arching her eyebrow imploringly.</p><p>He spoke very quietly. “The Watch’s Commander is breathing down our necks. If we didn’t come up with a flesh-and-blood, named suspect, we’d all have been put through the ringer.”</p><p>“So you put Robb Stark through instead? That’s supposed to endear me to you?”</p><p>“No, it’s not. And loads of us didn’t like that this is the way we went. But if we want funding to actually track down your suspect, we have to make it appear as if we’re doing something.”</p><p>“So let me go talk to Robb,” she hissed.</p><p>“I can’t. But I can let you go on the other side of the interrogation mirror, okay? You can see he’s fine. No one’s hitting him or anything. He’s not even handcuffed. Alright?”</p><p>She took a deep breath and nodded.</p><p>Sam led her further down the hall. He’d given her coffee back to her, and she stopped short when he did, keys appearing out of nowhere as he unlocked a door and let her into the small, dark, room.</p><p>Her phone buzzed insistently in her pocket, but she reached down to ignore the call. If it was Arya, she’d call her back as soon as she could. If she answered the call now, Sam might be liable to take her back to the waiting area.</p><p>There was a large window along one wall and she hurried over to it.</p><p>Sure enough, there was Robb. Looking very perturbed, but no worse for the wear. She still wished she could speak with him. Assure him that she didn’t believe a word of any of this, and neither did half the Night’s Watch.</p><p>“See?” Sam asked from the hallway. “He’s fine.”</p><p>“He’d be better if you’d just let him go,” she muttered but returned to Sam in the hallway.</p><p>He led her back to the waiting area and as they neared the door, another man had approached the front desk. “Which room do you have him in?” he asked.</p><p>Margaery skidded to a halt to listen in. Sam stopped too.</p><p>The man had dark hair and an impeccable suit.</p><p>“Interrogation room B.”</p><p>“B?” he condescended. “You couldn’t scrounge up A for Ned Stark’s son?”</p><p>“Who his father is has no bearing on any of this,” the officer retorted.</p><p>“Really? You’re not looking to make an example out of him?”</p><p>“Just go converse with your client, Baelish.”</p><p>So his counsel had arrived. She stepped into the waiting area with Sam and watched as Petyr Baelish went down the hall swiftly, his briefcase in one hand and to-go coffee in the other.</p><p>“You won’t have to wait long now,” Sam assured her. “Baelish is great at getting his clients out of this station.”</p><p>“How about getting his name off the suspect list?”</p><p>“Just give us another to replace it with.”</p><p>Margaery took another sip of her cooling coffee and waited.</p><p>She heard the front doors bang open and a collective groan washed over every member of the Watch that was currently within sights of the door.</p><p>“Stand down, idiots, the cavalry's here.”</p><p>Margaery grinned and thrust her mug back into Sam’s hand. She left the waiting area and turned the corner to see Arya standing there with her arms crossed, a self-assured grin plastered on her face.</p><p>“Arya,” she sighed in relief. “Was that you who called me? I missed it because they--”</p><p>“Not to worry, Marg,” she said. “Not to worry at all, ‘cause I’ve got a name for ya. A name that’ll get my brother out of this dump.”</p><p>“You got a name? You can give it to us,” the man behind the counter called.</p><p>“She’s the one paying me. I think I’ll tell her first.”</p><p>Arya pulled Marg away from the front desk and whispered a name to her.</p><p>“Joffrey Baratheon,” she said. “I’ll go over more in a mo, but I wanted you to know first.”</p><p>Joffrey Baratheon? Why that didn’t even make a bit of sense. The worry must have been evident in her eyes, because Arya quickly reassured her. “I am one-hundred percent certain, Marg. Just trust me, okay?”</p><p>Margaery nodded and Arya practically skipped up to the counter.</p><p>“You can let my brother go, ya bunch of smelly crows. Just emailing a dossier to everyone on my mailing list. If I missed you, it’s because I don’t like you.” She tapped on her screen and the watch member closest to her sighed heavily and clicked around on the screen in front of them.</p><p>The one closest to her looked bored. “Just tell us. What do you have, Stark?”</p><p>She smirked and pushed up onto the counter in front of him until she was perched atop it like a smug hawk about to sweep down upon its prey. She held her phone aloft and was very deliberate with her movements as she brought up the first document. “Right, well, let’s go, shall we? First off, you’ll see a barrage of screenshots.” She swiped through them. “These are instant messages sent to Ms. Tyrell on Instagram. She’s Cominguproses, in case you have been living under a rock and didn’t know.” She smirked briefly before continuing. “The other accounts are primarily KLsson--KL’s son, as in Kings Landing’s Son. There are still some more here depicting the same username leaving comments on Margaery’s Youtube videos. Even further, there are many, many, <em>many</em> instances comparing this user’s comments to another screenname--Goldenone111, note the similarities in verbiage.”</p><p>“That’s not proof they’re the same--” Idiot behind the desk argued.</p><p>Arya clucked her tongue and shook her head. “Oh, ye of little faith. Keep looking and you’ll see both site and keyloggers of each account, as well as device logs. These shiny little luxuries come complete with passwords, and the piece de resistance? They happened on the same device within seconds of each other.”</p><p>“Okay,” Idiot said slowly. “Well, that’s interesting.”</p><p>“Isn’t it though? And if you’ll continue on further, I’ll show you the same device signed in on my parents’ guest access wifi. Why is this device signed into my parents’ wifi, you might ask? Because, my darling numbskulls, this idiot puts even you all to shame.”</p><p>Idiot sighed heavily. “So what, Stark? It’s who? One of your other brothers?”</p><p>“Nope. Joffrey Baratheon is staying with my parents. I think if you check, his phone will match the device logs.”</p><p>“Call Tarly up here,” Idiot said. “He’ll be able to make sense of this.”</p><p>Since Sam was just down the hall, listening in to the exchange, he hustled down to the front desk and shooed Idiot out of his seat so he could take a look. His face was impassive, but Arya didn’t seem to be bothered by it.</p><p>“Does that clear my brother?” she asked.</p><p>“Not exactly, this just proves that Joffrey Baratheon is Margaery Tyrell’s cyberstalker,” Sam said, wincing pre-emptively.</p><p>“Oh?” Arya asked, grinning from ear to ear. “Right, I forgot I have one more bit of evidence here. Since I was able to check the internet usage on Golden Boy’s phone and see what sites he visited, I could not only confirm that he was the one harassing Ms. Tyrell. He also put her rental address into his GPS. And I think if you confiscate that phone, you’ll find the exact route he took to drive there and plant the bomb. I mean, I saw all of his routes and he totally did go to Marg’s place early in the evening two days ago. When she was out. Does <em>that</em> clear my brother?”</p><p>“Looks that way to me,” Sam confirmed. And Idiot groaned loudly, reaching for his phone.</p><p>“I’ll give the commander a ring.”</p><p>“You do that, toots. Let him know I solved this case in its entirety on my own,” Arya said, sliding her phone into her shirt pocket and crossing her arms smugly.</p><p>He talked quietly into the receiver, but judging by his facial expressions, he received a full dressing down via phone call. When he hung up, he looked like he was about to be sick. “Commander says to go tell Stark and his lawyer to get the fuck out of his interrogation room and to take the younger Stark’s statement concerning her evidence of the perpetrator. Then, he’d like for there to be zero Starks, and zero of their associates in this station. Ms. Tyrell, you’re free to stay, but as we told you before, you’re also free to go.”</p><p>Resolving to leave immediately upon Robb’s return, Margaery went to go sit primly on one of the Watch’s horribly uncomfortable benches.</p><p>Arya stayed where she was, folding her legs like a pretzel on top of Idiot Officer’s desk. He had to move some things out of the way, but he took her statement.</p><p>A door opened down the hall and she heard voices. Peering around the corner, Marg spied both Robb and his lawyer exiting the interrogation room. She couldn’t help but smile.</p><p>She breathed a bit more easily as well. Catching his eye, she waved, and he returned her expression, apparently interrupting whatever Mr. Baelish was saying. He walked away from his lawyer, who was still attempting to ask him a question.</p><p>Margaery wasn’t sure what to do. She wasn’t sure if they were in a place, relationship-wise, that warranted her hugging him just then.</p><p>But a handshake felt entirely too impersonal.</p><p>She decided a hug was fine.</p><p>Opening her arms, he seemingly liked the idea, because he stepped right into her embrace. She inhaled the scent of his shampoo and felt the tension in his shoulders. “Why so tense? We both know you didn’t do it,” she teased.</p><p>He huffed out a laugh and pulled back slightly. “I’m glad to hear you say that, Marg.”</p><p>They each stepped back at the same time, glancing around to make sure no one was staring at them. Much.</p><p>Undeterred, Robb’s counsel continued, pausing only to extend his hand to Margaery. “Petyr Baelish, I believe we spoke on the phone.” He didn’t even give her time to respond, sounding exasperated, as if their reunion had inconvenienced him. “Look, Robb. This was unlawful imprisonment. I could get them on holding you here without reason. Emotional distress. It’s a gold mine.”</p><p>Margaery suddenly understood exactly why all the members of the Watch hated Petyr Baelish. Even she had to admit he was a bit of an ambulance chaser.</p><p>“What about you, dear?” he turned to Margaery. “Want in on this? I know they weren’t listening to you. Couldn’t have done. Must have been unduly stressful for you?”</p><p>She shook her head. “No really, I’m fine. Just so long as they arrest the actual culprit,” she leveled a glare into the bullpen. Anyone who wasn’t already immediately looked busy.</p><p>Robb chuckled softly. “Like I said before, Petyr, none of that will be necessary, I just want to put as much distance between this station and myself as possible.”</p><p>Arya tossed her keys to Robb. “Go pull the car around.”</p><p>He caught them, and looked at Margaery. “I’ll stay if you are,” he said quietly.</p><p>“Oh gods, no. I don’t want to be here another second,” she confirmed, and he nodded towards the doors.</p><p>“How long will you be, Arya?”</p><p>“Judging by Officer Dinwitty’s notes, about five minutes or so?”</p><p>“Gotcha, we’ll be out there, then.”</p><p>He held out his free hand to Baelish, shaking it and thanking him.</p><p>“Are you kidding? You Starks are my easiest clients,” Baelish gushed, even though he looked a bit put off that Robb and she didn’t want to get some class action lawsuit going.</p><p>Robb switched the keys to his other hand and offered the empty one to Margaery. Smiling, she took it, and they left the station the way they’d entered it. Together.</p><p>As they walked, the brisk air whipped around them. “Who’s Catelyn?” Margaery asked.</p><p>“My mum, why do you ask?”</p><p>“When I called your counsel, he mistook me for Catelyn. Before I spoke.”</p><p>“Ah,” Robb snorted and shook his head. “He’s in love with my mum, I think. But he’s shit out of luck, she’s quite happy with my dad.”</p><p>“Odd,” Margaery mused. “If that’s common knowledge, why does your family employ him?”</p><p>“Oh, my mother insists. He’s the best legal representation in the North. She’s not wrong. And he cuts us a deal. Since you know. He’s in love with her. Either he feels guilty, or he thinks it’s going to win her over.”</p><p>“What does your father think?”</p><p>“He doesn’t really dwell on it. Don’t think he cares, to be honest. He’s well confident in my mother’s affections.”</p><p>Margaery supposed she couldn’t really judge. If her grandmother had cut all the people who fancied her out of her life, she’d likely be the least connected woman in Westeros.</p><p>And this man wasn’t blowing up his mother’s kitchen either.</p><p>Gods, the bar was really low, wasn’t it?</p><p>She climbed into the car with Robb, pushing a pile of crumpled paper onto the floorboards of Arya’s car. Fast food wrappers mostly.</p><p>“Sorry, my sister’s a slob. That’s why Sansa refused to get a flat with her.” Robb turned the ignition and put the car in reverse. He pulled out of the spot and drove up to the front doors of the station.</p><p>Arya came sauntering out moments later, pulling open the back door and raking her litter out onto the asphalt before hopping in.</p><p>Margaery pressed her lips together to stifle her laughter.</p><p>“What? I pay taxes, and I do their jobs. They might as well make themselves useful,” Arya said, lounging in the back seat while Robb drove. “Theon wanted to go out for drinks once I cleared you,” she added nonchalantly.</p><p>“So he knew before I did?” he asked, chuckling to himself.</p><p>“Naturally,” Arya replied. “Everyone knew I’d get you out of it.”</p><p>“Get me out of it? I didn’t do it.”</p><p>“I’m a P.I, not a bloody lawyer,” she reminded him. “I can’t prove your innocence. I can, however, incriminate the true criminal. Which is what I did. Anyway, drinks?”</p><p>“It’s not even two in the afternoon,” Robb said. “What about lunch instead?”</p><p>Arya sniffed indignantly before answering. “I <em>suppose</em> I could eat. Let me just call Gendry.”</p><p>Margaery frowned, mouthing “Gendry?” in Robb’s direction.</p><p>“The only man in Westeros who puts up with her slovenly habits,” Robb grinned. “Gendry’s her boyfriend.”</p><p>“Ah,” Margaery nodded in response. “Ah yes. The boyfriend.”</p><p>“The old ball and chain,” Robb added.</p><p>“The little mister?” Margaery laughed.</p><p>“The--”</p><p>“Robb Stark so help me, Old Gods, I will rip every last hair from your head if you keep it up.”</p><p>His smile was infectious and brightened every part of his face. He cut his gaze over to Marg for just a split second before looking back at the road.</p><p>“And don’t think I’m an idiot and don’t know something happened <em>there</em>,” Arya continued. “Tension’s gone. Well done, you two.”</p><p>Robb immediately blushed and Margaery couldn’t help but reach across the seat for his hand.</p><p>“Where to?” Robb asked.</p><p>“Giantsbane’s,” Margaery said quickly, grinning in Robb’s direction. “What? I didn’t get my leftovers.”</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>ROBB</strong>
</p><hr/><p>Robb leaned back in the booth, barely having drunk the last of his soda before Tormund was pushing another glass into his hand over the partition. He was relatively busy, but as soon as they’d all come in, he made room for them, pouting that they hadn’t brought Jon in as well.</p><p>Tormund got a kick out of teasing Robb’s cousin until he practically hid under the table.</p><p>Theon and Sansa had met them in the car park. Sansa hugged him for so much longer than was strictly necessary, and then she punched him hard in the shoulder for allowing her to worry.</p><p>Now, she was seated beside him, but practically in Theon’s lap.</p><p>Margaery was on his other side, with Arya and Gendry rounding out their party and filling up the corner booth</p><p>She was laughing and relaxing a great deal more than she had been. He would say it bordered on how she was the last time they’d been here, but in that short amount of time, she’d found herself a niche and snuggled in nicely. It almost wasn’t comparable.</p><p>As he’d expected, she’d hit it off immediately with Sansa after the latter got over her starry eyes and realized Margaery wasn’t the persona she portrayed for social media and was in fact, a real person.</p><p>Now they were sharing their burgers and swapping plates over his head like they had been doing this all their lives.</p><p>Margaery scooted closer and closer to him, to the point where he had no choice but to drape his arm around her shoulders. None of their boothmates made a comment.</p><p>That was a lie, they all made comments.</p><p>“Whoop! Finally,” Arya said.</p><p>“Joke’s on you, I know they hooked up last night,” Theon countered.</p><p>“You know nothing,” Robb said.</p><p>“Am I wrong, though?” his friend asked.</p><p>“Sansa,” Margaery interjected. “Swat your boyfriend.”</p><p>His sister abruptly smacked Theon, and then there was a whole new kerfluffle at the table, taking the heat off him and Marg.</p><p>She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “You’re welcome.”</p><p>“Thank you <em>so</em> much,” he murmured, turning to catch her lips while everyone was teasing Sansa for finally admitting she had a boyfriend. “Wanna go outside for a mo?”</p><p>“What for?” she asked.</p><p>“Just some fresh air.”</p><p>“How do you suggest we get out of this booth?”</p><p>He glanced at the couples on either side of them and slid down under the table. Margaery followed suit and soon they were headed for the door.</p><p>The sun was already setting orange on the horizon and the air was colder than before. It was scarcely half-past three, and Robb couldn’t help but repeat his family’s words in his head. Winter is coming. He quickly offered his hoodie to Marg, which she tried to refuse, but he was already tucking it around her shoulders.</p><p>“How are you?” he asked, catching and holding her eyes.</p><p>She leaned forward, hands grasping his coat around her as she bumped into him, her mouth finding his. He smiled into the kiss and stepped closer, placing one hand on her waist and the other in her hair, smoothing it out of the way.</p><p>“I’d like a change of clothes,” she murmured against his lips and he laughed.</p><p>“Did they say if we could go back and get anything from the flat?”</p><p>She nodded in reply, her breath fogging up and mixing with his.</p><p>“We can go get everything after we finish up here. You can bring it round to mine… unless you’d rather try another rental?” he asked, unsure if he was overstepping his bounds.</p><p>“No, no, yours is fine.” She smiled and kissed him again. “I never once thought for a second that it was you, Robb. I know I said it before, but I really want to double down. I know it wasn’t.”</p><p>“I’m glad to hear that,” he said, sighing with relief.</p><p>“I still can’t really believe it was Joffrey Baratheon…” she said, shaking her head.</p><p>“I can,” Robb said. “They have him dead to rights. He’ll be doing prison time for this.”</p><p>“But his father’s Robert Baratheon,” Margaery said. “I can imagine he’d be able to pull strings.”</p><p>“Not with a bomb, he won’t. That’s something you get sent to the Wall for.”</p><p>“You’re certain?”</p><p>“One hundred percent,” Robb replied, leaning forward and kissing the tip of her nose. Despite their proximity, it was icy cold. “Are you really okay? I feel like so much has happened… I dunno how to think really…”</p><p>“I’m fine,” she assured him. “How are <em>you</em>?”</p><p>“Fine as ever,” he grinned. “<em>I</em> knew it wasn’t me. I had nothing to hide. Except for my very unprofessional manners while I was guarding you.”</p><p>“I’m not complaining,” she said. “You can guard my body for the rest of the time I’m here…” she laughed and leaned forward again, kissing him again as another thought occurred to him.</p><p>“What happens after you go back?”</p><p>“You’ll visit me. I’ll visit you.”</p><p>“You’re certain you want to try to do this long-distance?”</p><p>She looked at him as if he were insane. “Of course. I’d be batty not to snap you up, Robb Stark.” He smiled and she led the way back inside. “Now come on. I’m freezing my tits off.”</p><p>“Now, I know I could <em>definitely</em> help with that,” he offered.</p><p>She grinned and tugged him back towards the door. “Later, okay? I need to get back in there or your sister is going to eat everything on my plate.”</p><p>“No one said you must share,” he reminded her. “There’s a reason Arya and I don’t.”</p><p>She laughed, and he stopped walking, his hand still closed around hers. “What?” she asked, her eyes glittering in the setting sun. Her smile turned mischievous as she tugged on his hand. “Robb, I’m freezing.”</p><p>“Then come here,” he said, tugging her into a much closer embrace. His lips found hers once more, and as she sighed into his mouth, he tilted his head to reach her better.</p><p>“I am so glad I found you,” she whispered.</p><p>“I am too.”</p><p>“Not entirely thrilled with the journey, but you can’t predict these things, can you?”</p><p>He shook his head, nose nuzzling hers, so much happier than he had been ten days before. “You really can’t.”</p><p>He couldn’t help agreeing that a cyberstalker and a faulty kitchen bomb were not parts of this week he wanted to remember. But she was right. She found him.</p><p>And regardless of the circumstances, everyone was fine.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Epilogue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>
    <em>Four months later</em>
  </strong>
</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>MARGAERY</strong>
</p><hr/><p>As she ran her finger over the shelf nearest the front door, knowing full well that there wasn’t a speck of dust left, Margaery sighed and gazed around the room.</p><p>She’d spent the better part of the past two days ensuring her entire flat was completely clean and tidy. Her therapist, who she’d started seeing immediately after returning to Highgarden after the whole stalking incident had occurred, told her that obsessive cleaning was a coping mechanism.</p><p>The question was, what was she coping with?</p><p>She’d come to terms with the fact that Joffrey was in a few words, an insane, evil maniac. She was fully versed on the logic, or lack thereof, of his decisions. And while she still had some fear surrounding what had happened, she’d learned how to combat it when it happened.</p><p>It was like a looming shadow. She couldn’t help but be aware of it. And as such, it was easy to do away with.</p><p>But this nervous cleaning tick, that was related to a different fear. One that liked to hide about until she was blissfully getting along without it, and then it would jump out of a closet just to remind her that it was still there.</p><p>The crux of the thing was, she was still, after four months of a long-distance relationship, nervous about having Robb here.</p><p>Not because she thought he didn’t belong. He did. He slipped into normal here very quickly. Even when he woke up in the morning with one of her trailing plants in his face. He was so cute in those first few seconds between being asleep and awake, battling with her pothos vines.</p><p>It wasn’t his physical presence that triggered it. It was the knowledge that it was fleeting and temporary. She was mostly nervous that every time she saw him would be the last. That he’d grow tired of seeing her in this stilted capacity, and he’d either issue an ultimatum or worse, simply break things off.</p><p>They spoke daily. Texted constantly. They were never without a way to contact the other. And it wasn’t compulsory actions on her part. She could go about her day just fine, returning his calls and text when she could. It was just these times. The times where they arranged to see one another. Something about these times made her clench up and she wasn’t sure what it was.</p><p>She was filled with what could only be described as longing. Longing for him while he was here, no less. It was strange.</p><p>That, coupled with the fact that she regularly almost blurted out words on the phone that could be misconstrued as weird if he didn’t return the feelings that prompted them.</p><p>While she was normally the one who didn’t put down roots in a relationship, she’d seemingly put them down with Robb without realising it. And she lived in dread of the day where he came to the conclusion that he hadn’t.</p><p>That, her therapist had explained, was another fear Margaery had to conquer. Because Robb had given her no reason to think that way.</p><p>They visited each other once a month, for three days at a time, and never once had he ever indicated he was unhappy with the way things were.</p><p>Of course, they spent most of their time during those three days engaging in activities that seldom required them to leave the bedroom. More or less. Sometimes they did it in the shower. They seldom tried to talk in person about any of her worries. And they conveniently slipped her mind at other times.</p><p>But she was digressing. She had to wind up the vacuum cleaner cord and wait for Robb to knock. He’d be here any minute now.</p><p>He did knock, the second after she’d closed the door to the cleaning closet.</p><p>When Marg answered the knock, she couldn’t help but smile.</p><p>Robb stood outside, bag on one shoulder and jacket already draped over his arm as a thin sheen of sweat broke out on his forehead. He was endlessly sweaty and hot whenever he was here in Highgarden. Her grandmother had joked it was because he had something to hide, but Margaery knew that wasn’t true. The likely culprit was the stabilised plane cabins during the flight down here, so the heat came as a shock once he exited the plane upon landing.</p><p>That and he was a Stark and ice ran in his veins.</p><p>“Hi,” he said, smiling while wiping his brow.</p><p>“You’re here,” she breathed.</p><p>“Why are you always so surprised?” the question was lighthearted as he pushed his hair back from his forehead.</p><p>“I dunno, you have to travel so far.”</p><p>“So do you when you come to visit me,” he countered. “Also, while I love having this conversation, could we do it inside before I’m a puddle on the ground?”</p><p>“Oh of course, right,” Margaery stepped to the side and Robb entered her apartment.</p><p>He glanced around the room. “Have you gotten <em>more</em> houseplants since I was here last?”</p><p>“I always do,” Margaery assured him. “I’d get them while you were with me if there was time.”</p><p>He dropped his bag and reached for her hand, pulling her into his embrace. “Sorry if I’m sweaty,” he murmured.</p><p>“If?” she teased but leaned forward to capture his lips anyway.</p><p>“Do you have anything planned?” he asked, nuzzling his nose against hers and she shook her head.</p><p>“Nope, nothing.”</p><p>“Good, I was hoping we could talk.”</p><p>Panic bloomed in her belly, so she simply nodded, stepping back and taking his hand to lead him over to the couch.</p><p>“Marg?” he gently prodded. “Margaery, it’s nothing catastrophic. I just wanted to tell you that I love you.”</p><p>She froze in mid-stride, processing his words and turning to look at him, studying his face for a hint of any sort of dishonesty and finding none. “You love me,” she repeated.</p><p>“Aye, I had a whole speech planned about how much I look forward to seeing you every month and how sometimes I can’t believe we’re together, but you looked so stricken I tossed it all out the window.” He smiled and she sat down abruptly on the sofa.</p><p>“I love you too,” she replied.</p><p>“I am relieved to hear you say that, Marg. I truly am.”</p><p>“I thought you were going to offer up an ultimatum or something,” she confessed, feeling a bit silly.</p><p>“An ultimatum? What kind?”</p><p>“That I have to move or we’re through.”</p><p>Robb sat down next to her. “Margaery, no. I’d never do that. You’ve got your life, and I’ve got mine. If this is meant to be, we’ll find a way to fit them together, yeah?”</p><p>She smiled, leaning over to embrace him tightly. Regardless of how sweaty he was. Robb loved her. And she loved him. All of him. “Nothing else I’d rather do.”</p><p>“Really, nothing?” he teased. “Because I’ve been on a plane for the past few hours thinking about all the things we could do once I was here.”</p><p>“Is one of those showering together?” she asked, reaching up to run her fingers through his damp hair.</p><p>“As a matter of fact, yes. See, we are truly on the same wavelength, love.” She started to rise and he tugged her back in place. “Hey listen for a minute… I um, I know you’ve been worrying about things between us, what with living so far apart and all. I know that because I worry about it as well, and I know what I’m looking at. And I think since we’re on the phone for ninety percent of our relationship, we could use that time to talk about things as they arise. Problems. Worries. I mean, we’ve no excuse but to be sensational at conversing, am I right?”</p><p>“We’re sensational at basically everything else, so yeah, I guess you’re right.”</p><p>“Alright,” he said, grinning again. “Shall we? Because I am sweating like a boar and I want nothing else than to wash that flight off me.”</p><p>“Really? That’s uncanny because I want nothing else than to wash that flight off you as well,” she countered, arching an eyebrow and standing. She led him down the hallway after her.</p><p>“You’ll be pleased to find out that I also purchased lighter clothing to wear here. But I flat out refuse to wear the linen suits your brother wears.”</p><p>“They make them in solid colours, Robb,” she teased. “Just because Loras wears prints doesn’t mean you have to.”</p><p>“He looked like a bloody cheetah at that last brunch your Grandmother threw.”</p><p>Margaery snorted. “He is a bloody cheetah, Loras.”</p><p>She opened the bathroom door and flicked on the light. She bent to start the water, leaning more towards warm than hot. When she came back up, Robb was peeling off his shirt.</p><p>As she watched him undress, she wondered how she could ever have doubted that those feelings were love. It felt as if she’d always been in love with him. That there hadn’t been a time she wasn’t. Like the feeling just lay there, dormant in her body until she saw him. And then it ignited in a flash.</p><p>“Cor, I’m pale as a whitewalker,” Robb said into the mirror, looking back and forth between them.</p><p>“That’s because it’s too cold to do anything up North. You should take a longer trip down here and try to get some sun.”</p><p>“I think I’d just burn to a crisp, wouldn’t I?” he laughed. “And you couldn’t love a bloody crisp, could you?”</p><p>“I dunno. I love a puddle, so it appears I’m flexible.”</p><p>He smirked and stole a kiss before dropping his trousers and pants. “Too right you are.” He stepped into the shower and sighed.</p><p>It sounded like a challenge, so Margaery followed his example, determined to show him just how flexible she could be.</p>
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